


The Prince of Fire

by TrusttheJotun



Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: A Story In Which Things Do Not Go According To Plan, Alternate Universe, Blood Brothers, Children, God of Fire Loki, Jötunheimr | Jotunheim, Jötunn Loki, Marvel Norse Lore, Odin's A+ Parenting, OdinSleep, Powerful Loki, Prince Loki, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Thor Is Not Stupid, Thor and Loki are not related, You are so dead when your dad wakes up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-12
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-01 06:35:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 36,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1041522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrusttheJotun/pseuds/TrusttheJotun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki is the child of tales long since assumed to be legends among the Jotuns. He is born with warm skin and eyes the color of fire, marking him as an extraordinarily powerful sorcerer-- one who can control both fire and frost. His distinguishing traits are hidden from all Jotuns in the realm, save for the royal family. He is nameless to the people of Jotunheimr, simply "the prince," lest his name ever expose him to the Asgardians. </p><p>Odin has fallen into the Odinsleep and Thor holds the throne in his absence. After Volstagg and Hogun are killed while trespassing on Jotun soil, Thor responds with an army to take back the casket, fearful of the Jotuns possessing such power. Thor goes searching for something to barter with in Jotunheimr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Farbauti birthed Loki and Laufey birthed Helblindi and Byleister. All Jotuns are unisex and these two are both the rulers of the realm. Assume that I will refer to Jotuns as "he" throughout this fic, as it is what the Asgardians see them as and is must softer than "it."  
> Not edited yet... Much. Still in flux.

The blazing prince was the sickest child Fárbauti had ever seen. Loki was small for a giant's offspring, weak and wracked with harsh coughs that roused Fárbauti and his mate, Laufey, in the night. Their child did not laugh, he did not smile, he did not respond to the voices of his sires. Farbauti and Laufey dodged the topic of their son, too proud to admit to Jotunheimr that Loki was a feeble child. Such sickness was a distressing omen, especially for the firstborn of two renowned kings.

Loki was also feverish by frost giant standards. To his parents, however, this was dust in comparison to the fact that Loki had not opened his eyes at birth. The royal couple swore the healers to secrecy; they had to be certain of their child's nature first, if he would truly possess power greater than any jötunn of the realm.

On Loki's second birthday, he opened eyes and they burned not red, but instead like fiery gemstones. The instance of a jötunn with hot skin and orange eyes was so rare to the point that most had dismissed it as a legend. The powers lamented seemed impossible. After all, how could a frost giant exert such a blaze? But on Loki's second birthday, when he stared the two kings in the eyes, there was no denying those tales. And that meant the small jötunn had been born with the power of both fire and frost, naturally wielding inordinate amounts of energy. Loki was not merely an abnormality of the jötnar: he was a child that would grow to manipulate magicks that no other jötunn could touch, and they would flourish under his command.

Fárbauti knew that Asgard would never allow such a being to grow to maturity. Asgard was secure in its power and would extinguish any challenger it found. He ascertained that his eyes would be glamoured and that none other than his family would know the warmth of his skin. Laufey refused Fárbauti's wishes to completely conceal Loki until he was as untouchable as legend would have it; they could not separate their prince from his people.

Jötunnheimr adored their prince from a distance. Loki held himself with a proud decorum and moved with the elegance of a snowy wind. An avalanche of luxuriant hair fell mid-way down his back, ever silky and Stygian where no flecks of ice nestled in the strands. From time to time, he would visit the cities and jest with his people. None knew his name or lay eyes on the unglamoured, true structure of his face; these were Farbauti's conditions. Heimdall could never see Loki's face, nor could Loki's name be spoken where magicks did not shroud it. Farbauti was adamant on the topic of Loki's concealment, demanding that he hid anything that could be used to identify him.

When the younger princes arrived a year apart from each other, Loki flaunted them like jewels - such was his pride. It was as if his excitement overcame that of the rulers. He stayed with them, even by night and especially during the ones too cold for jötnar when they huddled next to the warmth of their elder brother. They were the only ones other than his sires who grew to know of his magic and the drain it placed on him.

After practicing fire magic, Loki could sleep for days at a time with little indication that he lived other than the warmth of his skin and the rise and fall of his chest. Sometimes he would wake and find his hair in braids, or a small library's worth of books on top of him – his brothers often bored of waiting for him to open his eyes as they lingered. Whenever this happened, the door was guarded heavily while Loki rested so that none could touch him in a helpless state.

Laufey watched his son in awe as he nurtured sparks and then blazes. The growth of the fires was followed by the clandestine fears of the two kings, haunted by the life of unknowns Loki wrought effortlessly. Loki, however, knew who he was, his place – even if the rest of his realm did not. He was the Prince of Fire, the blazing royal, the protector of two siblings who piled objects upon his sleeping form. When Jötunnheimr had true need of the unbridled power of fire, Loki swore to protect his home.

A trio of Asgardian warriors had traveled to Jötunnheimr on the Bifrost. The Asgardians ambushed a patrol and jötnar dispatched the trespassers mercilessly, leaving their bodies to be ravaged by the realm. Not so much as a fortnight passed before Asgard retaliated by clogging Jötunnheimr with their army, ordering them take their capitol. Laufey summoned the eldest prince to the castle parapets as the unopposed Asgardian soldiers marched on their home. The king stood aside as Loki's skin flared with orange as if it were an ember.

Loki made certain that war was over before a drop jötnar blood was drawn. He seized the frozen plain in fire.

A battalion of Asgardian warriors crisped in the inferno conjured on the black ice of Jötunnheimr. The ground beneath them liquefied instantly and they sank into a roiling lake amidst cries of alarm and fear at the power that should have been beyond the jötnar. A third of the battalion's warriors, an unfortunate two hundred, swam desperately to the edge of the water, burdened by their armor. Most sunk in the body of water, their efforts to swim in vain as a sheet of ice spread over the blazing prince of Jötunnheimr regarded them with a look of weary disappointment as a father would a child as he brandished his power; he'd expected much more from such a caliber of army. The prince raised a trembling palm to unleash another elemental burst, but never had the chance.

"Wait, my child," Laufey hummed, fingers closing gingerly over the eldest prince's. "You have done plenty; they will not return for the casket for a time, and the survivors will terrify the rest with their stories. Fárbauti and I will hold the palace."

"And me?" Loki asked, swaying with the drain of his magic.

"You must not be in your normal rooms; it's not safe for you to stay here now. Go and rest in the temple – if the Asgardians approach, they won't seek recompense there. Rest." Laufey touched Loki's neck fondly and bent to his knees to be at eye level with his grown but stunted child. Laufey combed a hand through the prince's inky hair and shooed a piece of it out of his face, gazing into the brilliant orange eyes of his child. "You need to rest after using that kind of magic. The rest of our warriors will clean up here. Go to your brothers, child of mine."

Loki's face was distant with fatigue and as pale as a sheet of snow. "Yes, sire." He swayed gently and faced the battle he had just truncated. He could faintly hear the screams left by the beautiful power of the flames, something frost nor fire could fix and his eyes glinted. Although captivated, the jötunn was positively exhausted and he could only just see clearly enough to know what was passing before him.

"Loki, go. They would have razed our cities." Laufey beckoned a guard who towered over the blazing prince. "Escort him to the temples."

Loki squeezed his eyes shut.

Laufey turned to his son. "Please go before you are so exhausted that I must carry you."

"Yes, sire." Loki braced himself against the guard's arm and found himself in the temple before having even processed that Laufey was no longer by his side.

The temple was colossal, wrought of stone and ice. The walls were a shade of blue akin to a deep river. The building had a main floor and two wings, as well as an open-air observatory from which one could see for miles if they ascended its spiral staircase. The temple was located east of the city, providing those who came a respite from the tumult. It was large enough to hold hundreds of jötunar at any given time, though it was usually occupied by a handful of attending sorcerers and healers, most of whom had been called to the castle.

Loki stumbled gracelessly into one of the empty priest beds in the west wing ... and into the view of his brothers.

"Loki!" Býleistr chimed from the stairs, descending as quickly as his feet would let him.

Býleistr was followed by Helblindi, a close third in age. They were nearly the same height, Loki never having grown past the shoulder of his parents and the younger two not old enough to possess a giant's stature. They all were children beside any adult giant.

"You were amazing," Býleistr lavished, gently pulling on Loki's shoulder.

"Hrmmph," the oldest prince rumbled, stuffing his face into the bed. Helblindi threw his arms around his brother's shoulders, anticipating a shove. When none came, he snuggled into Loki's neck, nuzzling the sleek hair of his brother and inching into bed beside him. Loki was always hot to a frost giant's touch, a spectacle that his brothers had known happily as children, cuddling under the same blankets in the palace.

Býleistr spread a blanket over the two of them. "I miss my bed in the palace," he laughed. He sat next to Loki nonetheless.

The eldest was hiding an affectionate smile in the sheets as he fell into an easy sleep.

* * *

"An entire battalion of Asgardian warriors lost on Jötunnheimr; reports of fire in the realm; our warriors, the _lucky ones_ , returning with frostbite and scarring burns. And they're sopping wet," Thor was seething. He shook in fury, unnerved by the agonizing failure of his men.

Frigga had joined him in the throne room, knowing that her son was at his worst. Odin was deep in his sleep, unreachable. The blood was on Thor's hands.

"Mother. Please. How can this be? How can the jötnar wield fire and Heimdall know not why? This should have been an easy day of forcing back jötnar troops, of a true fight and not a slaughter of our people. I had not even arrived with a second wave and yet we were already beaten. Next time, I will go first. I will slay Fárbauti and Laufey where they laugh on their wretched thrones. I will destroy their frigid palace."

Frigga smiled as if offering condolences.

"Mother, I am sorry for you to see my like this. Whatever power they possess, however this has happened, it must be stopped. And we must retrieve the casket because this is what happens when the jötnar have power. They kill us in scores," Thor said with finality, volume beginning to lower.

"Thor, you know that it would be wrong and foolish to send in another few hundred of our people to their deaths."

"I know; I cannot let more of our people die this way and there must never be such a force released in our realm," Thor sighed. "I will go in. I will take a small group of warriors who know what must be done; they will not expect us again so soon. We will go straight to their temples and capture their high priest. Or I shall get their heirs. Perhaps the beloved crown prince Heimdall says they praise. Heimdall says the royal family is hidden from him. Cowards." Thor looked at her in the eye, imploring. "Mother, I ask of you this for the safety of Asgard: lend us a cloak of your magic so that we may enter unnoticed. Heimdall can take us out of there after we find a jötunn."

Frigga tightened her lips.

"You know I must go even if I do not have your blessing," Thor reasoned. Frigga sighed heavily; there was no stopping him.

"You have it, my son."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ǫ́ss denotes a male Æsir/god.

Loki had not budged for a couple of days, save for the shallow breathing that let his siblings know he lived. The temple was a degree away from empty; their rulers occupied the priests, most of them capable sorcerers, in planning fortifications for the realm.

In the absence of a scrutinizing eye, the two princes had nosed through every cabinet and crevice they could spot. Once every nook and cranny had been through explored, they returned to poking at their dozing brother such was their boredom and restlessness. Býleistr had covered him with all of the blankets in the wing; now Loki was invisible and he made a comfortable seat. Helblindi had brushed the roughness from his oldest brother's hair and cleaned the sweat from his brow. After doing this for what seemed to him the hundredth time, he resumed meandering as if he were hoping that something would surface from the metalwork and distract him, or some other place in the room he had not yet discovered would make itself known.

Nearly as noiseless as Loki was, three guards who swapped shifts at the temple's slate doors. They watched the princes when they heard them running about. Jötunnheimr was blissfully – and irksomely – quiet.

* * *

He dreamt he was scaling Yggdrasil and that the leaves were glistening like gold paint, oblivious to the waking world. The higher he climbed, the more magnificent the leaves became. If only he could ascend to the top and see the most glorious of all. He was certain that there was one waiting for him, though he was lost on whether or not to pick it when he glimpsed it.

* * *

"Loki." Býleistr shook the dry-eyed jötunn vigorously.

Loki's snoring paused for a second and then carried on in a rapturous slumber.

Býleistr sank into hysterics. "Loki, get up. Please, please, wake up! Someone is here and we need you. Loki!"

Helblindi screamed in a high-pitched note that echoed on the metal walls like a bell.

Loki's firestone eyes snapped open and he snarled. He slid out of the mountain of blankets with an annoyed grunt. He had no idea of how long he could manage to stand and was certain that reserves of magic that had begun to come back were fuelling his waking self. His heart thumped damply in his chest, driving blood to his extremities and adding to a pervasive sensation of lightheadedness. His shoulders were slumped, his legs shook and he was fighting back a yawn. He was not ready to wake, not for days.

"Behind me," Loki whispered, knowing that there was no point in telling Býleistr to stay put.

Býleistr sniffled and nodded. They paced through the wing surreptitiously. Loki held his jewelled dagger as he glanced over the corner into the main room of the temple, one hand holding Býleistr back.

"Where are the priests?" A man boomed in Asgardian. "Where!?"

Loki growled; he had Helblindi. The young prince was shaking his head frantically. An Asgardian had lifted the giant off the ground by the neck with a gloved hand. Loki and Býleistr looked in time see the Asgardian slam Helblindi's back against a column with enough force to cause reverberations. The man was heavyset and rippling with muscle. Greasy blond fringe screened his features, but Loki could see that his face was split by a monstrous smile. He wore an obnoxiously red cape that billowed off of his shoulders and unique Asgardian armor. It took Loki a moment to lay eyes on his weapon, an unusually short-staved hammer. Two Asgardian warriors flanked the man, visibly their leader, blood dripping off of their blades like saliva from a crazed beast.

"The guards," Býleistr whispered. "They didn't last a minute."

Loki nodded, judging the distance with bleary eyes. His mind whirred; how would he free Helblindi?

Thor wedged the head of his hammer against Helblindi's collarbone.

"Answer me," the grisly Asgardian snarled. "I am Thor, Prince of Asgard, and I will have answers."

"They went to the palace," Helblindi heaved, voice and body trembling.

"He's small for a jötunn," a female Asgardian said contemptuously.

"Aye, he looks like one of their offspring. See how scared the little monster is?" Thor jeered. He pushed Helblindi so hard into the wall he wailed. "Are there others here?!"

A tear tracked down from one of Helblindi's ruby eyes.

"Why are you here? Why the guards?" Thor snarled. "Where's that prince you savages love so much? Heimdall overheard that he went this way."

Helblindi broke into sobs at this.

Loki sucked in a breath, trying in vain to combat the headache and weakness that his magically drained body was left with; he had a weak plan, though.

"Let him go." Loki stepped forward, nearly losing his balance. "Release him. He is too young for battle today. I … I am a priest here. I will do you no harm if you let the boy go."

Thor stared blankly at the giant for an instant then narrowed his eyes.

My glamour! Loki realized, heart constricting. He blinked, cast the magic and his eyes turned jötunn red as he opened them again.

"You're only a child, too. Is this whom Jötunnheimr sends to defend them? Very well." Thor clutched Helblindi by the shoulders and hurled him at the ground between him and Loki.

"No …," Byleister whimpered.

Helblindi was motionless and lay unnaturally turned on the floor. Loki growled in fury and raised his hands. An array of ice shards charged the Asgardians, but they were too small to be effective. _Weak._ Loki ground his teeth and wished his magic were richer now.

"You're him, aren't you?" Loki spat, inching towards the motionless Helblindi. "The fool-prince of Asgard, little shining marigold ǫ́ss. He got closer. He needed to keep them talking. "Ah, but you're a dying breed, aren't you? The royal family of Asgard, dropping like flies. First Balder, now the Allfather, and it's only a matter of time until it's your turn to walk Helheimr's halls!" He closed the space swiftly and gripped Helblindi's wrist, pulling him back swiftly.

"Huagh!" Thor lobbed Mjölnir at Loki. It collided with his chest and he was too winded to yell out. The hammer pushed him through the temple. Helblindi was pulled back with him, streaking across the floor. His back hit something solid and he slumped to the floor, Mjölnir indented in his front. It was agony; the hammer was so damn heavy.

Býleistr streaked towards the Asgardians, bellowing his rage.

"No, Býleistr, GO!" Loki wheezed, shifting in vain against the hammer. "Please. Býleistr. Run."

Býleistr stood with a thin blade of steel, shrouding it in ice. Thor was hurtling toward them now, cape billowing as though he were chasing a windstorm. Unbeknownst to him, these were feeble efforts of Loki to repel him; he was too tired, in too much pain. In one final attempt to escape, Loki iced the floor under Thor's feet which only served to have Thor fall on top of Loki. Loki cried out and his dagger glided under Thor's armor. He forced the blade through the metal and flesh, twisting under Thor's ribs with as much strength as he could summon, both hands now around the hilt. Thor bellowed in pain, and the sound was sweet against Loki's ears, the metallic scent of blood a delight; he'd hurt his brothers, it was only right.

In his focus on stabbing the Asgardian, Loki did not see the magic restraint bracelet until it was already on his wrist.

No…

He felt drained all of a sudden, his limbs leaden weights and the hammer, if anything, became heavier. His eyelids fluttered and closed, unable to sustain awareness without some supplementation. His fingers loosened the jewel-bedizened hilt.

* * *

"No more magic for you," Thor panted, clutching his chest. He turned the dagger so that he could pull it out between his ribs, gritting his teeth against the pain and it took all of his self-control not to scream. The giant had gotten close to his heart. Thor thought he too might pass out from the agony as it slid free. He threw the decorated dagger aside, his blood dark against the light floor. "Bastard." He spat weakly at the jötunn.

Last remaining jötunn was more of a challenge for the Asgardians. He was a foe thicker and more muscled than his brothers with enough strength to break a sword. He advanced on Thor, scenting weakness.

Thor acted quickly. He reached for the dagger, grabbed the sleeping jötunn's hair and pressed the blade against his neck. "Go and sit by these two or I'll kill him." Thor dug it deeper; his blood stained the jötunn's cloak. The standing jötunn looked fleetingly to the sleeping one, seemingly for direction, but his eyes were closed and his face bloodless.

"Now, while I still allow it," Thor growled. A line of blood appeared on the jötunn's neck.

The last jötunn tossed down his weapons and sat next to them, shivering with fear.

"Good." Thor produced another two individual silver bracelets, holding his injury. He connected the two jötnar with the chain on the cuffs. The sleeping jötunn's other hand was bound to the other injured jötunn; Thor noted he gripped the sleeping jötunn's hand, even in his sleep.

Thor pulled the injured jötunn up and, ignoring the choke of the only one that was still conscious, slapped him hard across the face. He stayed limp. Thor lifted him by an arm with the help of one of his warriors; he would have carried him on his own, but he still hurt too much. He mused that the children would be good bargaining chips, especially the one with strange eyes. Despite his injury, the reward was great. When his father woke, Thor thought, he would praise him for the success of this mission. Perhaps that would overshadow the loss of Asgardian life on the Jötunnheimr battlefield.

* * *

Býleistr was scared. He'd failed in protecting his brothers; instead of Loki sleeping and he and Helblindi finding more things to pile on top of Loki, both were dead weights at his side. He reached out to touch Helblindi's bleeding face, but was stopped by the weight of a sword on his arm. The Asgardian prince, Thor, lifted his hammer from Loki's chest where it had assured its shape, grinding ribs into ivory shrapnel. Býleistr winced.

"Carry him," Thor ordered him, jerking his head towards Loki.

Býleistr whimpered and carefully lifted his brother. One of the Asgardians followed behind them, nudging a guard's body with his foot as they passed the iron doors. Býleistr averted his gaze, not wanting to give away that one of the fallen lived. The giant's breath rippled the blood of another.

"Move."

The Asgardian behind them kicked his ankle uselessly as they marched. When no one was looking at them, Býleistr tentatively pulled back one of Loki's eyelids and saw that the orange had returned, bright as the Midgardian sun. A shiver went down his spine; the glamour had fallen, and he had no idea how to put it back in place.

On the inside of a dream about a forest of ice and fire, the last words Loki heard in Jötunnheimr were "Open the Bifröst."


	3. Chapter 3

"Put the jötnar in the dungeons," Thor ordered, dropping the giant once they were in the Bifröst observatory. He would never admit it, but he was glad to put the giant down; his wound for one thing was painful. Trying to look instead as unhindered as possible, he brushed off his arms as though they were coated in sludge. "Get their names so that the rest of them will know who we hold." He turned to the guards at the entrance. "Guards, I am injured. Fetch me a healer."

They bowed, leaving at once.

The prince turned to his friends, a triumphant smile on his face. "My friends," Thor said, clasping a hand on the shoulder of one of his comrades, "I yearn to celebrate, but not today. I saw the eyes of the middle jötunn, the one trying to defend them. They were orange, I'm sure of it."

"A monster among monsters," chuckled the warrior.

"I hope he lives so that I may know why. He looks strange for a giant." Thor hung Mjölnir at his hip and sheathed the jötunn's dagger beside it. "Send for a healer for the prisoners."

* * *

Never before had Býleistr felt as helpless as he did sitting in the prisons, what with two unconscious and injured brothers tied to his wrist. A trickle blood was leaking out of the corner of Helblindi's mouth and his arm was an unnatural jumble at his side. Loki snored gently, though all of his breaths drew a foreign tremble from his chest. Býleistr didn't dare try to adjust either of them. There was no rousing Loki, not this time; his sleep rivaled the oceans in depth.

Býleistr curled his knees into his chest, taking care not to pull on the chain and jerk Loki's body. The Asgardians had not bothered to release them from their three-way bond. They truly were monsters, leaving them like this with two of their number injured. Býleistr wedged his head between his knees and stilled, trying to smooth his breathing and calm his thoughts.

"Jötunn. I am a healer of Asgard."

Býleistr looked up suspiciously to see that a white medical bed had materialized in the confines of the cell.

He scowled. "They are the ones injured, but I can't move them — we're bound together." He pulled on the chains.

The healer made a soft clucking sound with his tongue and walked towards the giant with apparent authority. He clasped Helblindi's wrist. The chain extended and Helblindi drifted upwards with magical direction. He was placed softly on the white bed. Tendrils of gold tracked over his body like wires, holding him down.

Býleistr watched as the healer passed a luminous hand over Helblindi. He held a fear in his heart that the healer would do more harm than healing; after all, the Asgardians despised his race. But then a thought crossed his mind and he tried his best to swallow his sudden panic: they would learn who Loki was and what he had done — Asgard would _never_ find the prince of fire weaker.

The healer brought Helblindi's arm to his side and constructed a brace. He wiped a damp cloth over his skin. Then, to Býleistr's dread, the healer drew back Helblindi's eyelids and flashed a small light at them. Seeming satisfied, the healer skimmed a hand along Helblindi's body, murmuring spells. Small comfort was given to Býlesitr as his little brother began to breathe easier, each breath sounding less pained.

The healer then moved Loki without a word, positioning him on a fresh bed on the opposite side of the cell. Býleistr stood up and took a step forward. He touched a new barrier in the cell and watched with as much control as a bird through a window.

"How is he?" Býlesitr asked, stalling for the inevitable.

"He will live," the healer said, not pausing in his work.

The healer pulled off Loki's cloak and then the thin armor he had fallen asleep wearing. A second healer walked into their section and cut away the metal bent into his chest from the hammer's blow.

"This one is warmer than the others," one healer said, baffled. She took off her glove. "He's not burning me, even when I touch his skin."

"He must be sick," the other replied nonchalantly.

They continued for a moment, magically adjusting the cartilage and bone in Loki's chest until it was not so grimly concave. Býleistr breathed a sigh of relief. He was still dreading the moment they would see his fiery eyes.

The healer moved toward Loki's face and pointed the same light at the gemstone irises of the jötunn. They reflected it like a well-cut diamond. The healers gaped.

"How—?" one started, leaning only a nose-length away from Loki. "I've never seen anything like them."

They were speaking now, tones hushed and uncertain. Býleistr caught Thor's name and groaned; he'd hoped the injury Loki had given him would have been enough to occupy him with for a while longer.

"The prince took children," one whispered.

"There's something wrong about this one. I don't like it." He paused, testing the temperature of his skin.

"What does he think he will prove? The jötunar will not accept that their young have been stolen. It will only force their hand."

"I'm going to get the prince," the other replied, uncertainty in his voice.

The second healer nodded and followed the first out.

In their moment of absence, Býleistr caressed the skin on Helblindi's face, hoping he would not wake to the fright of Asgard and be of use to Thor in his panic. He tried to lift Helblindi's hand to intertwine their fingers, but it was too rigidly bound to the table. Asgardian tricks. He hated them all the more for it.

Thor thumped down the staircase a few minutes later and Býleistr met his eyes with a look of indignation.

"Get away from them," Thor ordered curtly. He waved his arm at Býleistr. "You. Back. Against the wall." He frowned at the thin chains they wore. "Guard, why did you not bind them more heavily? They're frost giants, for Valhalla's sake!"

"My prince," one of the healers said, "might I enquire as to why your prisoner's eyes are orange?"

"They are?" Thor asked. "I thought so … let me see again."

Thor was handed one of the lights the healers had used in their examination before and pulled back one of Loki's eyelids. He stared into the jötunn's bright eyes.

His face slipped toward the shade of alabaster. "What sorcery is this? Why is he not cold? Is he jötunn truly, without those sickly red eyes?" he pressed the healers.

"We know not, my liege. He seems otherwise jötunn; he bears their skin and their markings."

"Have you identified his house?"

"No, my prince, not yet."

"Identify it, and quickly." He paused. "Why does he still sleep?" Thor paced across the cell. "He went out like a candle in Jötunnheimr."

"Fright, exhaustion … possibly magical drains. It can be difficult to know with a giant."

Thor grunted. He pointed at Býleistr. "You, the giant who still stands. Who are you?"

"B-býleistr … of Jötunnheimr." He tried to look formidable, standing straight-backed and curling his hands into fists.

Thor scoffed. "I know that. What of the others?"

"Loptr and Helblindi," Býleistr stammered, relieved that their names were never spoken, but still predisposed to caution; Asgardians could never be trusted.

"Tell me, jötunn. Why are his eyes like that? What is he?"

Býleistr wet his lips. "It's nothing. They're abnormal because he's ill. You know, he's feverish. Er, very. He was being treated in the palace, you see, he's hardly ever awa—"

Thor had closed in on him. "We'll see if the other jötnar in our midst share your tale." He addressed the guards sternly. "Keep the strange one separate from these two."

"Will he die of illness?" a healer ventured.

"N-not yet. No," Býleistr mumbled.

"Why were you in the temple?" Thor asked with a glower.

"I was hiding from the battle."

"It was over days before we arrived in your sorry realm. There was no war left to hide from. Just you few jötnar children and their guard."

Býleistr had no response; he was certain that Loki would have, but he didn't have Loki's talents for spinning lies on the spot. Býleistr instead held Thor's scowl.

"Which of you is the eldest?" Thor started. "No, wait. Only one of you was powerful enough to fight with magic. Guards, tell me when he wakes."

Býleistr started to protest, but his voice cracked almost immediately. "I—"

Thor had had enough. "Guards, muzzle the monster if he won't shut up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki is the equivalent of a human around the age of 20 for his years. Given that giants live at quite different rates, it's a challenge to pick out a comparable giant scale for age. Byleister and Helblindi would be about 16 and 13 respectively, though stand at nearly the same height. Thor is older than Loki by a few years, though not significantly.


	4. Chapter 4

The Asgardians had left the sacred temple streaked with the blood of the princes. It was congealed on a column, the far wall and in an ugly smudge drawn across the floor like paint. The blood of the guards ran under the doors of the temple and lay frozen upon the steps. The living guard was under the supervision of the healers, but the other two lay lacerated.

Laufey stood above them, fists clenched. "How could I let this happen?!" he cried. "I should have sent more warriors to protect them! My beautiful children…." Laufey traced a smear of red along the column, staining his finger. He was burning, bristling with anger and he wanted to repay the Asgardian scum in kind; let their soldiers die, their prince die, their king die; let them all die for hurting his sons.

Fárbauti put a hand over Laufey's shoulder and pulled his side tightly closer. "It was that Asgardian prince. The guard heard him."

"I wonder if Loki was even awake. He could scarcely stand when I sent him here." Laufey leaned against his mate. "I should have kept them with me. All of them."

"Kjartan said that they were bound together, my sweet. They have made a fatal mistake in taking the princes. Loki will make them regret it."

"What if he doesn't wake soon enough? He's exhausted. I wouldn't expect him to reach for magic for a week or two, much less wake. You know how draining magic can be. And there's all that time those savages could strike…."

"The boys have nothing to fear. The Asgardians search for a grown prince of beauty. Heimdall must have overheard someone speak of his location. We have been so careful," Fárbauti hissed. "They will not note his stature nor his charm; they will not put the two together. They are all blind to the wonder of Loki. Odin may know of Surtur from his grandfather, but Thor will be arrogant and Odin has only been sleeping a short while. That prince will not know what he holds."

"We will have him home, all of them," Laufey stated, mostly to himself. "You should have seen him – he would have made you proud."

"I believe it. They are sure to demand the casket for their safe return," Fárbauti growled.

Laufey snapped, "We are not handing over the casket! We have had it for far too few decades to even consider such a thing, for one! It is Jötunnheimr's heart. It won't be necessary; Loki can help himself out of their realm."

"I wasn't planning to," Fárbauti laughed. "But I wonder if we did, how would history will see us if we were to hand it over without drawing our weapons."

"They'll only see the sires of the blazing prince," Laufey assured his mate, "for Loki will bring glory to Jötunnheimr."

"It does not matter if we are his sires or not if he does not return! Their prince won't be kind to them until he understands how we have slain the Asgardians with fire. He will seek answers from them and then from us if they do not relent."

"I will tell the prince it was a group of sorcerers! Or an augmentation of the casket. Ah, no," Laufey muttered, "we'll see what they ask. Pray that Odin sleeps until Loki is in our hands and doesn't see his eyes. His abnormalities can't be overlooked, even in Asgard."

"Loki will be in the heart of Asgard when he wakes, and when he does, he will be full of fire," Fárbauti said, malice seeping into his voice.

Laufey chuckled. "He is a little young to start a war, Fárbauti, not that he could not carry it." He paused. "Jötunnheimr is ready for war, but _I_ shall not seek it out." He looked pointedly at Fárbauti.

"Neither shall I, my sweet," Fárbauti conceded. "If the boys do not come home, or if the Asgardians demand the casket, will find a way to sneak them out."

"I imagined nothing less."

* * *

The lights were scintillating and Býleistr wished he could break them so that he might sleep. He wished that it were not arid here, that the air was not so hot. He said nothing to the guard and remained with his back flat against the wall of the cell with eyes only for his brothers. After his shoulders began to ache, he put his head down on his arms and placed his forehead on the floor next to Helblindi's bed.

He was tired, though. He hadn't slept since they had come to Asgard, too afraid of something happening in his slumber. But his eyes were leaden. He closed his eyes, promising himself he would only rest, only rest, for a few minutes—

"Býleistr? Loki? Faðir?" Helblindi whined. "Hello?"

Býleistr jerked awake, suddenly fretful about how long he had been asleep for. There was no telling in this dungeon.

"I'm here. Shh," Byleiser cautioned, scrambling over to his younger brother's bedside. "They don't want us to speak. Loki's here, too."

"Loki—?"

"Don't talk, or they'll gag us." Býleistr cast a worried glance to the guard who turned his head in their direction.

Glowering, the guard had called over to another, "Tell the prince one of the monsters has awoken."

The second guard left.

Býleistr felt fear crawling in his stomach, but it was gone a second later as Helblindi spoke.

"I can't move."

"Quiet," Býleistr warned, fretting at the news Thor was coming. "Of course you can. They just restrained you."

Helblindi spat out a mouthful of blood-saturated saliva on the floor. "It's hot in here. Where's Loki? I want to go home."

Býleistr heard thumping footsteps. He gripped his brother's hand tightly. "Don't tell them anything, Helblindi."

"Finally," Thor snapped as he barged into the dungeons. He headed directly to their cell, scowling at them. "Hmm. I was hoping for the other one."

"You," Helblindi seethed.

"Yes. Me."

"What do you want?" Helblindi snapped.

"I want questions answered."

Býleistr lifted his chin. "I've already answered your questions."

"You be quiet; I want to hear from him," Thor growled. Turning to Helblindi, he continued, "Why were you in the temple, and why is your priest warm and tiger-eyed?"

"We live in the temple," Helblindi said as coolly as he could. "As for his eyes, could it be the heat in here?"

"You two make a poor story." Thor feigned a thoughtful look poorly. "Bring in the prisoner."

_Prisoner?_

Býleistr exchanged a look with Helblindi as two warriors marched a bound jötunn next to the cell. The jötunn's skin was littered with scars that stretched angrily over his bones. Býleistr could tell that this was no newcomer to the dungeons and he twitched angrily.

Thor walked out to the hallway where the jötunn stood. "Bjalskir. I have only known of you through tales of your failures. None in the dungeons nor this realm shall raise a hand if I lay down my blade."

The jötunn laughed hoarsely, defiance in his tone. "So this is the golden prince they told me to kneel to."

"He is Thor, son of Odin and heir to the throne of Asgard. On your knees," a guard encouraged him with a mace.

The jötunn looked dubiously at the weapon, but did as he was told.

"How can a jötunn child be warm for their race and have orange eyes?" Thor interrogated.

The prisoner's eyes widened and his jaw was locked.

"You know!" Thor said triumphantly. "Tell me: why does this happen?"

The prisoner tipped his head up leisurely. "You will never know from me," he retorted, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Then you will die today, mercilessly like the field of Asgardian soldiers in your accursed realm!"

The jötunn only smiled. "Long live the royal family of Jötunnheimr."

Thor snorted and kicked his back. "Any last words?"

"You will burn and I will watch from Hel."

Thor smashed his head with his hammer. The jötunn slumped and Helblindi choked. All Býleistr could see was the bright red jötunn blood on the floor and on the head of the hammer.

"I'll await tiger-eyes' awakening. Make no mistake, monsters," Thor said, leaning against the outer cell wall. Býleistr wondered if the wound Loki had given him was still bothering the prince; he hoped so fervently. "It is your race that will burn for that slaughter."

"Shall we try the other jötunn prisoners, my liege?"

"Aye." Thor pointed at Býleistr who bore his teeth. "Go ahead and get comfortable, you're not going anywhere."

Thor stomped up the stairs to the left; that was the last they saw of him for a fortnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surtr was the last fire Jotun known by any Asgardian. He is not actually the being of the mythology in this story.


	5. Chapter 5

_Loki dreamt that he was swimming across an inlet in Jötunnheimr. The fringes of the lake melted as he swam toward them, eroding just beyond his reach. Loki trode water obstinately in the midst of what had become an unfathomable amount of water. He tested all of the sides. They melted under his fingers and he peered up to the black sky, silhouetted with snowflakes. They dissolved on contact with the tremendous water, refusing to pass the surface. Loki filled his lungs with oxygen and a few ramshackle snowflakes and then plunged under the water._

_It was so dark there; dark to the point he couldn't see his hand in front of him. He tried to move and swim back to the open air, but his body strained against something in the depths. Loki's chest convulsed in panic. When he could hold his breath no longer, he reluctantly took a mouthful of frigid water._

Loki choked awake, gulping in air greedily and wondering why this liquid felt so good to his lungs. His staccato coughs had his brothers banging on a wall of golden light, unable to reach him. A cell wall. Loki gradually realized that he was indeed wreathed by lovely air and exhaled easily. He tried to turn away from the suns above him and the pounding sounds. A faint phrase entered the edge of his attentions.

_"Open the Bifröst."_

Asgard. He was in Asgard.

Loki groaned and licked his flaking lips. He tried to stretch his fingers to his thigh to draw his dagger and slice the gold threads that held him, but his arm was immobilized. He pressed his thigh sideways to the gurney. The blade did not press against him.

A guard outside the cell signaled one of the patrolling guards. With renewed urgency, Býleistr and Helblindi leaned on the lustrous gold barrier between their cells.

""Loptr!" Býleistr forged. "We're here. You're fi—"

He heard heavy steps descending stairs out of his line of vision.

"Bring him bound," the voice of Thor ordered the guard.

Thor. It was a shame he wasn't dead or dying.

Loki laughed dryly when the guards took him up from the cell. His thin cuffs were taken from him and he was instead weighed with heavier chains and a collar that cut into his skin painfully tight. He grinned nastily at them and the guards flinched; good, they knew to be wary of his strangeness. He was pleased with himself when he managed to walk without stumbling on the chains around his ankles; his legs felt as if they were still treading water in the lake. He was led through the palace in silence, the only noises the clinks of his chains and the tramping feet of the guards. After a few minutes, they stopped outside of a huge set of golden doors and Loki thought obscenely why such a stunted race would need doors that big.

They opened on oiled hinges, gliding as smoothly and soundlessly as if by they were operated with magic.

"In, giant."

Loki quirked an eyebrow at the guards and walked in. Despite the restraints and the guards on either side of him, he was a regal figure; he was the crown prince of Jötunnheimr, the prince of fire, and he would not stoop. He walked to the throne with conviction, outpacing the guards easily with his long strides. The fool of an Asgardian prince sat pompously on his throne, shoulders back and the hammer in one hand.

"You are a prisoner of Asgard, jötunn."

"Oh, well _done_ ," Loki drawled, wearing a mischievous expression. _You have brought me to the heart of my enemy's home._

Thor looked down his nose at him.

Loki raised an eyebrow. "Oh, excuse me: the golden prince of Asgard. What a pleasure," he continued, voice dripping with undisguised sarcasm. "Would you like me to bow to you simply because you sit on the thr—?" Loki stopped suddenly, wracked with a fit of coughing. He clutched a hand to his ribs where Thor's hammer had wounded him. It felt tender and fragile.

"I am the standing king of Asgard. You will kneel, monster."

Loki saw a guard moved towards him. Having no desire to be touched, he slid to one knee of his own accord. He wheezed as he righted his posture. This was ridiculous, having to bow to a pompous Asgardian prince of all people.

"Such a shortage of Asgardian royal blood lately," Loki jeered, doing his best to build his shattered image of strength. "I heard of dear Balder, and now the Allfather; I bet you were their last choice to sit in that golden chair." He smiled wickedly.

"Still your tongue, you monster among monsters."

Loki chuckled at this.

"You are our prisoner."

"Truly? I hadn't noticed," Loki replied earnestly. "What gave it away? The chains? My kneeling? Me being here in this over-bright furnace a palace?"

A guard smacked his head with a chainmail glove. Lights exploded in front of his eyes and he fell back to the floor. Pain shot through his chest. _Damn them all._ Loki pushed himself back up, fixed his eyes on the prince and grinned again.

He would not submit; he was the crown prince of Jötunnheimr, the prince of fire.

* * *

Thor could hear that the tiger-eyed jötunn's voice was richer than the others, seemingly unperturbed by his predicament. This did not ease Thor.

"If you are a frost giant, why are your eyes not red?"

"I'm but a rarity, sick and weak. They hole me up in the palace; I am disgraceful."

"A disgraceful jötunn who has a schooling in magic?"

"Basic skills are needed for my line of work. I am a caretaker of only the youngest ones; it is the only thing I am good for."

"So, you are not a child. What are you, a runt?"

The giant stiffened. "I … am merely young by our standards."

"The young are foolish, and the young would not be charged with something as important as caretaking," Thor said, walking down the stairs in front of the throne. He hoisted Mjölnir at the jötunn. "I have grown tired of your lies," Thor said slowly, standing over him with a grim look.

"And I have likewise grown tired of your kingship," the jötunn rasped. "What do you want of us?"

"At last, a little reason!" Thor said with sham mirth. "As for what I want, I want knowledge. What weapon do the jötnar possess?"

"What do you mean? We have many weapons."

"Don't play the fool; you know what weapon I am talking about: the fire weapon."

"The cas—"

"The casket is a weapon of ice, so save yourself that piece of fiction."

The giant looked away. "If I tell you, will you return the other two to Jötunnheimr?"

Thor simpered shrewdly. "I may consider it."

Curiosity overtook him for a moment and he laid the back of his hand on the frost giant's cheek, verifying the temperature. He was warm as they said. He turned indigo with anguish and contorted away on contact.

"How long have I been here?" he asked coolly.

"Long enough for me to lose my patience with false innocents."

Something twisted in the giant's face at that. He opened his mouth and said slowly, not looking at Thor once as did so, "I will give you my word that the weapon of the giants will be known to you if you release the little ones."

* * *

It was a chance. Any chance to get Býleistr and Helblindi to safety was good enough for Loki to take, even if it meant exposing his secret. Oh, he had no intention to, but he knew by offering the idiot prince this prize, he would have to stay behind in Asgard, and there was time for them to find out who and what he was; there was more time for Odin to wake; it was a dangerous game to play. But he didn't care, his plan at the moment was to get his brothers to safety, heal himself and then get back home whilst burning as much as he could in his path in the process.

Loki watched Thor carefully, not breaking eye contact once. He could see the fool was interested in his offer.

"And why should I not kill them in their cells?"

_Because you will not live to see the next sunrise,_ Loki thought. Though he would have much preferred to speak this thought, he said instead, "You would be butchering helpless children. How befitting of Asgard." Thor paled and Loki smirked.

"They are not _helpless_ children," Thor said, insistent. "They are large enough to fight with their bare hands."

"Maybe not to you, but they are to us. They are helpless against your warriors, marigold. They are novices among priests."

Thor bristled at the title and Loki had to fight down a laugh; he didn't fancy that hammer crushing his ribs any further.

"Then they are the worst kind of your people: sorcerers," Thor spat.

"Not yet," Loki argued gravely. "As I said before, they are still children. Do you want their blood on your soil?"

Thor glowered at Loki, a vengeful smile splitting his lips. He circled behind him. "Who are you to banter with me in chains?"

"Why the sudden change in topic? Strike too close to home? I have no duties to a fool such as you," Loki laughed incredulously, as though the notion that he owed Thor any mind was unconditionally absurd.

"Hmm," Thor rumbled. "You stabbed me on Jötunnheimr. Would you like to know what I did with your dagger?"

Loki's face was statuesque. The Asgardian prince was losing his temper by the second, now moving on to what Loki figured was the only real card he had to play.

"It was examined by a weapon's expert, and then a jeweler. The blade is adorned with more valuable stones than the crown of Asgard."

"I stole it," Loki deadpanned. "Can I get up now? My knees are sore."

"From a priest? Or from royalty?" Thor sneered, ignoring Loki's complaint. "It is engraved with a name, your name – one the children bawled, _Loki_."

_Shit._

"Then you should know that I am a higher prize than the others. Send them home, you will have my word—"

"Your _word_?" Thor smirked. "Your word is worth _nothing_ , monster. This is the last time I will ask you. Who—?"

Thor faltered and gawked at something behind Loki. He heard the doors open and he strained around to see what it was, but the idiot prince was blocking his sight.

When Thor spoke, though, his voice was laced with anxiety. "F-father?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your feedback and kudos (and for viewing) my fic. I hope you take pleasure in the tale as I do. Please don't hesitate to ask me questions so that I can clear up anything that lacks clarity.


	6. Chapter 6

"Take the Jotun back to his cell. I must know what transpired while I slept." Odin commanded with the unvarnished authority of a king. Loki cackled as he was ushered away, his eyes closed tightly. He walked so that every tap of his toes clicked in the room. The door swung shut.

The throne room was silent. Odin's face was stringent.

"When did you wake, father? Asgard has need of your wisdom." Thor breathed. Odin's expression did not sooth and Thor felt a drop of sweat form on his neck.

"Frigga has enlightened me to your actions." The color seeped from Thor's face like a shattered wineglass. Odin walked down the carpet preceding the throne, idly placing one foot at a time.

"In my absence, you retaliated against the frost giants with a section of our army." Step. "Most of whom perished in Jotunheimr." Step. "You attacked without warning—"

"As they did to our warriors!" Thor interjected.

"Trespassers on their own land!" Odin boomed. "It was their right." Thor blinked at him in astonishment.

"Fine, Thor. You directed your warriors to inflict the horrors of war on the Jotunar."

"They slaughtered us, father, they used—"

" _Silence_. You should never have sent men there." Thor's lip curled and he fumed. He then moved to meet Odin in the center of the throne room.

"I have taken them as prisoners, father. They will pay for their destruction." Thor insisted. He fell into a plea for reason. "Mother must have told you how they butchered us."

"What did you do?" Odin roared. Thor realized that Frigga may have omitted this from her exposition.

"I took three Jotunar as prisoners of Asgard so that we may know how theey can inflict infernos on other races."

"Children, Thor." Odin took another step. Thor cringed.

"One of them is not. He is striking, strange with warm skin and the eyes of the most magnificent—"

Odin glared so fiercely at Thor that he resolved not to further justify his actions.

"Orange." Odin finished. "You could not be expected to know what you have brought to this realm and you should not have made off with anyone at all. My mother told me tales of a Jotun with ichorous embers for eyes and flesh hotter than ours. Rare beings, giants of their own legends. Thor, Odinsson, thunderer, know that such a Jotun is as close as the nine realms have ever seen to a god of fire."

"We have him here, we can kill him and he will never be a threat to us again!" Thor kneeled a few feet in front of his father. "He is weak, he slumbered for a fortnight. I wish I had known to slay him while he slept."

"These Jotuns are born only of the royal bloodline. To kill him would bring war here. If he is a child, he is young royalty. I suspect he rested as I do, restoring his magic."

"You don't have to compare that creature to yourself, father, he—"

"I must speak with him." Odin decreed. "You are fortunate that he did not scorch you as you antagonized him."

Thor scoffed.

"He is bound by magical restraints, he can do nothing here. I was never in harm's way, father. I have been careful." He looked at Odin, shaking his head and forcing the smile that always seemed to make everything okay again. Thor did not see Odin move.

Odin raised his hand and struck Thor across the face with the unmitigated power of a hardened mercenary. Thor cried out in astonishment and buckled onto the regal carpet. Odin passed him leisurely and proceeded to sit on his throne. Thor found himself trembling, one hand clenching the carpet.

"Get up." Odin ordered mirthlessly. "GET UP!"

Thor scrambled to his feet. He had not breathed for a time.

"His restraints would not constrain the pyre of his rage. He may not have hesitated to kill you. You were unprepared." Odin pronounced.

"W-what would you have done then, father? You cannot send him back; he'll lay waste to us. They will have the casket and the fire." Thor sputtered. "You say we cannot kill him."

"That is correct." Odin lifted an eyebrow and Thor's furrowed like worms. "I… do not follow." Thor said slowly.

"Then you are finally listening. We must ask that he become our ally. We must have his word that he will not use his power against us. We must convince him to unite with us." Thor shook his head. "Otherwise, you will know a true war between realms, whether or not the fire giant lives."

"He will never agree to this. I attacked him in his own temple and took the other giants."

"If he be royal, he is of no temple. Perhaps he is a brother to king Laufey, or a cousin. He may even have the birthright of the throne.

"No! He had a ridiculously valuable dagger with him engraved with his name." Thor added. "He _stabbed_ me, father!"

_I bet you deserved it._ Odin thought bitterly.

"A blow for which you have only yourself to blame." Thor laughed, but tried to pass it off as coughing.

"If the Jotun were any other, would you have him stay here and make toasts to our good health?"

"You and I will go to him. You will swear to never lay hands on any of Jotunheimr and we will ask the same for Asgard. There are other bonds to make, but this is the most moderate."

"He is not possibly so weak." Thor was taken aback.

"Peace does not mean weakness!" Odin thundered. "Not as war does. I can see that you have not learned this." Thor muttered something under his breath.

"I do, my son. We will not open this realm to the terror of war."

"And if it is unavoidable?" Thor challenged. Odin leered from his chair.

"Then you will spend the battle in the dungeons!" Odin replied levelly. "You will have noneof it."

"You _wouldn't._ " Thor gaped. "I am…"

"My son. And I your father. Frigga asked me not to throttle you for what you have done." Odin lifted his staff. "The giants will join our table. You will go to your chambers if you cannot handle the situation you have wrought for our realm." Thor sighed mutinously.

"I am ready, father."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Ahh, I woke up to your reviews today and felt like dancing. A realm of thanks! I have a few visuals for you.
> 
> A friend sent me this incredible piece of art. It's very close to how I imagined him wielding fire in the first chapter. To make it fit with the story, you'll have to picture the eyes too. art/Loki-God-Of-Fire-343494407
> 
> I've been looking for a good gemstone to represent Loki's eyes. Some garnets are almost right, the mineral Pseudolaueite is close and some of the more orange fire opals are spot on.


	7. Chapter 7

 "The king summons you to his table, people of Jotunheimr." The words were water to the thirsty Jotun ears. Loki crossed his legs, lounging on a chair with an air of calm that the guard could not make sense of. Byleister opened an eye curiously.

"For what purpose?" Loki asked dryly. The guard raised an eyebrow. Loki took it as displeasure.

"To converse on matters concerning Asgard and your realm."

"You're not much fun." Loki stood and stretched his shoulders, ignoring twangs of pain near his lungs. "Allllright boys, you heard the man in armor."

The golden walls of the cell faded. Loki took a few noncommittal paces toward the guard, placing his feet deliberately as if stalking prey. The guard retreated a measure, fearful of being pounced on by the wildcat.

"Something wrong?" Byleister asked the guard innocently, ducking out of the cell. The guard stationed at the staircase walked over, coming to stand beside the other. He was older and appeared a more seasoned guard, bored of the slights prisoners might attempt. He jerked his head.

"This way."

"You escort us again. How considerate of the king." Loki turned to check on Helblindi. The young giant verged on tears. Loki had been yelled into silence and threatened with a telltale muzzle if he spoke. Loki wanted to go to his brother, to tell him that he was only feeling weak because he'd been strong for so long, to apologize for however long he had slept and left them alone. Byleister had usurped the role of the eldest in Loki's absence. Loki could tell that the two were tired. They dragged their feet as they walked, chains jingling with each impact. Byleister wore the mask of a warrior, but it was plain to Loki that his spirit was dimming.

If only he'd not slept so long. Loki was not tired.

He was just waking up.

Loki squinted when they entered a dining room with a walnut table and a fluffy gold rug that seemed far to clean to have been laid under a table. It was small, intimately sized for eight. The places had been set for an evening meal. Helblindi gazed out the window in admiration of the light he'd been deprived of for weeks. It was beginning to slip away.

Odin sat at the head of the table with his hands folded over a plate. Thor sat to Odin's left, his face the color of his cape. He stared petulantly at his plate. Odin said his name softly. Thor made an exaggerated sighing sound and stared up at the Jotunar, purposely unfocused.

Loki seated himself at the tail of the table, three chairs in width away from Odin. Helblindi and Byleister fumbled with the chairs to the sides of Loki, awkwardly pulling them with their handcuffs on.

Loki leaned into the table and fixed his piercing eyes on the king. His lips curved like a painted joker's in a wordless challenge. Odin's knuckles whitened.

Odin tapped his hand on the table and the chains linking the giants' cuffs vanished. None of the Jotunar acknowleged this, instead sitting very stiffly in their chairs as it was demanded at their own table. Helblindi felt very unaccustomed to the rigidity of a chair. The cell wall had become very tolerable.

They sat like diplomats, save for the moist eyes of Helblindi and the far from neutral hue of Thor. Odin's skin wrinkled around his mouth.

"I apologize for the circumstances that have brought you here. Please accept the return of your dagger, Loki of Jotunheimr." Thor's nostrils flared as Odin handed it to him to pass across the table. He leaned over Byleister to hand Loki the weapon by the blade. Loki plucked it from his fingers and flicked it into the air, catching it by the hilt. He examined the inlaid stones and the tungsten blade. The royal blue of the tanzanite felt formidable in his hand. Loki refused to feel grateful for the return of the stolen blade, nor to let it grant him any sense of security. He did not sheath it.

Odin kicked his son under the table.

"It is a fine blade." Thor said roboticly.

"The best." Loki said tacitly, weighing it in his hand. Helblindi shrugged and Loki realized that the exchange had been lost on them. Loki could not have said whether or not this exchange was a show of faith or a tactic to gain favor, but the Asgardians had his attention regardless.

"Loki, Byleister and Helblindi of Jotunheimr. I apologize for the actions taken in my absence and ask your pardon as king." Odin cued Thor.

"I should never have provoked you into murdering my people and leaving numerous Asgardian famil-"

Odin raised a hand abruptly to silence him.

"You expect me to apologize for their bloodshed, father. I will not lower myself to that."

"I'm sorry so many people died." Helblindi said in a hushed voice. Byleister shot him a look of frustration.

"You sent soldiers to kill Jotunar." Loki said, eyes dim. "You cannot be so arrogant as to expect no losses out of a battle."

Loki remembered the wild fire and focusing it with Laufey's direction. It always felt raw, marvelously ingrained. Such inhuman power to be warmed with.

"You spilled Asgardian blood first. You stained your own snow." Thor pressed back, struggling to control his volume. Loki's lip quirked. Thor was actually making a good show of trying to contain himself.

"I killed none of them." Loki stated, reclining in his chair and lifting his hands. "And they were trespassing on our land. It is..." he paused to examine the ceiling. "Regrettable."

This lit the fuse that Loki was hoping for.

"I know who you are and what you have done, Jotun of fire." Thor snarled, pushing his chair back.

"Thor." Odin said tersely. Loki stifled a laugh and felt a prickle of abdominal pain. He gave a low, strangled noise. If his magic were not bound, he would have made a full recovery in a matter of moments. There were a few bones to shift and cartilage to realign. Now it was just a nuisance, especially because his body had healed some as he slept.

"Your eyes are like those of Surtur and powerful fire magic has been used in your realm. You sank into an abnormally long slumber." Odin's voice was building. Loki pursed his lips.

"What more than that?" Loki asked, eyes jumping to and fro from the Asgardians like fleas.

"The last known fire Jotunar was of the royal bloodline, Laufey's. Jotnar possess a fire magic of great measure and the rulers of Jotunheimr have not tried to contact myself or Thor since you arrived. They do not seem to fear for your safety."

Loki said nothing.

"We know that you are a fire Jotun of royal blood." Thor asserted. "Not a priest as you lied-"

Loki fanned a hand out on his chest as if to say _Lie? Who, me?_ He fitted around his dagger and wedged the point into the tabletop.

"Of course I lied." Loki said flatly. "Not if you're quite done, use the Bifrost to send us home and right some of your increasingly noxious wrongs."

Thor smirked.

" _Sit._ " Odin said under his breath. Thor shrugged. Loki turned his dagger impatiently in his hand, unaware that it had begun to emit red light. Thor bristled at Loki's animalistcly feral expression, one that had crept to his features seconds before Odin had stopped their conversation. Loki's thick incisors gleamed.

"You won't _let_ us go back." Loki realized with a snarl. Helblindi held his breath. "You plan to keep us here, to hole us up. _You are scared._ "

Loki leveled the tip of his dagger at Thor.

"I will _not_ go back into your dungeons, Asgardians. Don't delude yourself into thinking that you could detain me when I am not sleeping." The word "Asgardian" was like mud on his lips and he spoke as though trying to expel it from his palate.

Odin remained unphased, hands folded as ever. Loki wanted their fear, their acceptance that he could flay them with flames without lifting a finger. His brothers stared at him, decidedly more concerned with the type of storm their sibling could unleash.

"Loki..." Helblindi started somberly.

"Quiet." Loki said, biting his tongue. Helblindi looked down in anguish and stanched a tear with his sleeve.

"I have a proposition for you." Odin said, his tone respectful. "One of peace."

"You have ruined the peace." Loki replied, digging the dagger deeper into the hardwood. The wood smoked where he did so, the dagger a startling orange. Loki dragged the blade against the grain of the table. The scent of the burning table made Thor wrinkle his nose in further disgust.

Byleister rushed his hands to his knees to conceal their tremors. Helblindi wiped his nose against his sleeve and chewed his lip.

Loki needed his siblings out of there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Handing someone a blade by the actually pointy part is quite rude, just in case someone missed that.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just to clear this up: Thor did not personally go to Jotunheimr, it was a small party of Asgardians that Thor let go because, well, he could as king.

"I am the eldest of us, the one of royal lines. These Jotuns are not of interest to you." Loki stressed, breathing with control and remaining unflustered. He had been schooled that disposition was indispensible in such talks. "Send them back and I will hear you, but these are not the Jotuns with whom you are truly concerned."

"Father, I—" Thor started.

"Herrgh!" Odin thundered, startling Helblindi. Odin slammed his first on the table in another attempt to reign in his son. Loki frequented similar arguments with his birthsire.

"And I must meet with the rulers of Jotunheimr before I make any compromise." Loki wanted their counsel. He was confident in his ability to bargain, but they were his parents. "Send them home and I will hear you. Otherwise, you will have only my silence."

Thor's face had reverted to cape-color.

"They will be sent back to Jotunheimr." Odin agreed as though he were doing Loki some famous honor for which he should be thankful. Loki admired the scorched wood pattern that his dagger fashioned.

Thor watched the blade uneasily. A shiver of relief ranged over his chest, relieved that he had not been stabbed with the dagger while it glowed with heat. Thor wondered if Loki had intended to kill him. The giant had shoved the dagger mortifyingly deep in his thorax. Loki was right; it was he that Thor had discordance.

"We should send them back now, father." Thor smiled contemptuously. Loki's brow creased, suspecting trickery. "We can lead them to the Bifrost so that Loki can see that they are out of the realm."

"I expected no less." Loki aired. His dagger had cooled to a more tangible red. Odin squinted at Thor.

"Very well." Odin said, his face looking warmer. "Do you swear to remain in Asgard when they depart?"

Loki pocketed his dagger.

"I do. Why, I'll even give you my _word..._ " Loki said mockingly, targeting Thor.

_"Your word is worth nothing."_ Thor had told narrowed his eyes.

"On the condition that I speak with my companions privately." Thor was not amiable to this, but Odin acknowledged his demand, eyes flicking to the magical restraints on the Jotuns.

"We will wait outside of these doors. Knock when you are through." Odin instructed.

"And don't even thi—" Odin fastened his fingers around the back of Thor's neck and hustled him out of the room. The prince tried to keep his head turned backward, refusing to leave his back to the giants. Loki flashed his teeth haughtily.

"I won't leave you." Helblindi said in his native tongue, clamping his hand over Loki's wrist and sounding positively crestfallen. "You can't stay here alone. Dad's magic can't help you here. Come with us."

Loki rested his hand on his brother's neck affectionately and smiled sadly. He flattened Helblindi's short, inky hair.

"Loki, you're my brother. You would never leave us and I don't want to leave you here. What if—"

"Shhhhh." Loki angled forward to sweep a hand around Helblindi's body. Helblindi nuzzled the elder prince's hair, marveling at the only warmth he had ever been familiar with. "You must go home."

Helblindi squeezed his brother nearer, pressuring Loki's ribcage. Loki exhaled involuntarily from the sudden shock of damp pain.

"Are you hurt?" Helblindi inquired, his voice muffled by Loki's hair.

"It's nothing beyond a little magic, dear brother.'

" _Liar."_ Byleister surmised sourly. He stood and Helblindi fell back from Loki's embrace.

"I need to know that you are safe, Byleister. The Asgardians are not going to offer to let me leave, I guarantee it." Loki drew closer to his brother. "They don't know who you are, or myself. If you two don't leave, they will have our sires at their feet and I in turn. _Go home_."

Byleister clenched his jaw.

"We're spent just as much time here as you; I don't care if you were sleeping or not. Helblindi and I went through Thor's anger just as you did. They already know that you're some kind of royalty, Loki." Byleister fumed. "I can fight as well as you, Farbauti didn't just teach you. I can handle myself."

"Byleister. Never doubt that I love you. I have not a shadow of a doubt that you could fight in these realms, but the time is not right. Your presence will not ease my duty. Go home where you can be safe. Go home so that you can't be used as leverage. You will be only a piece in their games." Loki urged. "Go keep Laufey company. He is sure to be lonely."

Byleister's lips betrayed him in a brief smile. Loki jabbed a finger at his heart.

"Make the right choice before I have to make it for you and you end up face-first in the snow." Loki nudged him away from the table. "You're big. But you know I could throw bigger."

"Loki." Helblindi sniffled, reaching for him once more. Loki didn't think he could handle another giant child hug.

"We have spent enough time here and you two have stayed so strong all the while. When I return, I will tell our sires personally how proud I am of the princes." Helblinid swallowed and edged closer to Byleister. "Come."

Byleister followed him begrudgingly. Loki tried the door and smirked. The Asgardians had locked them in. He banged on the vast door.


	9. Chapter 9

No less than eight guards awaited the Jotuns. (" _For safe passage!_ ") Loki strode along the rainbow bridge with a brother to each side. The Asgardian royalty walked somewhere along behind them, out of Loki's sight. He resisted the urge to turn back and check to make sure that they were not about to raise their blades. His only reassurance was the weight of his dagger, blade as thin as the breaths he took. He wondered why they had given it back. Perhaps a dimwitted attempt at beginning their meeting in good faith.

Or maybe they were saving themselves the sentiment of killing an unarmed foe. _Let them try, let them try, let them try..._

The party walked wordlessly to the far end of the bridge where the gatekeeper met them.

Heimdall's molten eyes, glittering with constellations and forbidden realms, surveyed the Jotuns. He could not recall a time when he had viewed these Jotuns from Asgard.

"What troubles you, gatekeeper?" Loki asked cheerfully.

"I have been blind to you in your time in this realm and on Jotunheimr." The golden-eyed being replied slowly.

"How infuriating that must be," Loki said with mock sympathy. "Having such a magnificent being draw their curtains."

With this, they filed into the Bifrost chamber.

The younger Jotuns were anxious. Helblindi's face scrunched into a pout and Byleister's body was a column, rigid and cold. Loki imagined that they would come to terms with this in a few years and hold him blameless. He suspected that his brothers would sleep for a day or two upon returning, exhausted from the continuous battle they'd held. They walked shakily to the edge of the Bifrost. It egan to spin and his brothers vanished as if they had never entered the realm.

 _As it should be,_ Loki thought. _We don't belong here._

* * *

One of the guards stepped into the beam of the Bifrost an instant before it closed, mere seconds behind the Jotuns. He, too, vanished.

"NO!" Loki shrieked. He whirled on one of the guards, disarming him fluidly. The guard endeavored to elbow him in the rib cage.

So the Asgardians had told them where he was weak. No matter. He was faster.

Loki's fingertips inclined the guard's jaw up. There could be no mistaking the threat in the patter of his fingers. The guard then became extremely cooperative. Loki had not drawn his dagger, instead placing his other hand over the guard's stomach. The magical restraints itched on his hands as he quavered with rage.

"Your fire won't come!" Thor hollered.

"I won't need it to mangle one Asgardian." Loki seethed.

"Loki, that was a messenger to request the kings and assure that they arrive safely. We were never going to send them alone, I assumed you would understand."

" _You lie._ " Loki said smoothly. He clawed his nails into the underside of the guard's chin."You would have waited." he barked, wedging his elbow tightly against the guard's breastplate. "Open the Bifrost." Loki commanded hoarsely. "OPEN IT!"

Loki's free hand slipped to his side for his dagger, just to be certain in case the fire was truly unreachable.

Before he could raise it, something thumped solidly on the guard's chest. The man let himself fall backwards, throwing his weight on top of the Jotun prince.

The armor of the guard ground into Loki's chest as his back slammed into the floor of the Bifrost. Loki hear something crunch. He emitted a high-pitched caterwaul, sharp as a stalactite. Fresh pain bolted through his chest and his vision blanched. The weight lifted for an instant the guard staggered away from him.

Another object renewed the weight on his chest. He felt his clothes moistening with his own blood. He mouthed that he would kill them. The pain was as paralyzing as the mass on his chest.

 _Worthless, treacherous, Asgardian fools!_ His body pulsed with livened fury. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than Asgardian blood misted all through the realm. He opened his eyes, struggling to focus them.

Thor leaned over him as though he were something lesser, as though he belonged under him in rank. He clutched Mjolnir's handle where he had replaced it on the giant.

"You are not so mighty." Thor spat. Loki's eyes searched him, his own stricken with shock and murderous intent. He twisted on the floor, trying to force Thor away with a kick, a punch- anything. The Asgardian looked down on him. _You have NO power over me,_ Loki thought lividly. _I owe you no respect._

"Get away from me." Loki mouthed. Thor snickered, but stopped when he saw the fervent glow of Loki's magical restraints.

"Thor!" Odin shouted. "Get away from him!"

The magical restraints were melting.

"Thor, now!" he bellowed. Thor recoiled, raising his hands in surrender, but not calling Mjolnir from Loki's chest. The hammer's full weight bore down on the giant now. Loki realized that he'd been lifting slightly. Only with Thor away from him did he permit himself the luxury of a whimper of pain, hardly drawn from his compressed lungs. His chest made an audible _crack_ , akin to someone biting through a cracker. Loki gasped and made a dry heaving sound. Odin unsheathed his sword as the magical silver pooled on the ground by the giant. His face was grim and almost certain to provoke the giant.

"Father, wait." Thor said quickly. He moved to Loki and leaned over him. Loki's eyes narrowed like a snake's, saturated with weeks worth of venom. The unexpected nature of Thor's return was the only reason why Loki did not flay him in a frenzy of smoke and flame. Loki flashed his teeth in warning.

"I mean you no further harm." Thor stuttered. Loki's brow creased as Thor reached for the handle of Mjolnir. His hand shot up to follow but a hair's breath under Thor's veins. Thor shivered; Loki's hand was sweltering hot. There was no question that it would blacken his skin on contact. Thor eased his hand toward Mjolnir's head. He made contact with the handle and added each finger around it individually. The roasting hand followed him. Thor held the hammer with more uncertainty than he had ever known with the hammer near him.

They watched one another, Thor mesmerized in the wonder if Loki would burn him and Loki with the prospect that Thor would not ram the hammer back into his chest. They suspected the other would do so without hesitation were there no stakes.


	10. Chapter 10

            The Bifrost was altogether silent, motionless except for the limbs moving in tow and hoping for the illusion of trust to hold. Thor shifted his weight, slowly but surely, so that he could lift Mjolnir securely. The hammer came away from the cure of Loki’s a modicum at a time. The giant lifted his other hand, not hot with the magic. He let it linger above Thor’s grip on the hammer to assure him of its temperature, and then steeled on top. They guided it to the side of his body and to the floor with a soft _thud_. Loki did not loosen his hand when Thor tried to recoil. His eyes smoldered with new potency like fanned embers.

Thor’s breathing stilled and he felt as though his body had forgotten the laws of gravity. He grimaced and waited for the flame to lace itself around his skin.

            “Why?” Loki managed to gasp. The invigorating, free-flowing verve of fire swirled in his blood, but Loki was hesitant to reach for it. _Why didn’t you finish me when you had the chance? Why don’t you run?_

            “I…” Thor strained, feeling as if a small ocean had dried up on his tongue. Odin lunged forward and pulled him back from Loki’s side. He marched Thor to the opposite end of the Bifrost chamber.

            “What were you _thinking_?!” Odin shook him. “He could have killed you.” Thor tried to steady himself, feeling numb.

            “He could have killed all of us. He _still_ could, father. None are more dangerous than that wounded giant.” Thor said after a moment of thought. Odin eyed him incredulously as though he had not considered his son could process something of that accord. 

            “He is a powerful magic user and he can heal himself.” Odin replied impatiently. “ _Leave him be._ You’ve done enough. You are a menace in these affairs.”

            “You say we must be diplomatic, that we must make a deal.” Thor put in. “I know you are angry with me, but let me protect this realm as your successor. I will see that Asgard never again has people slaughtered by his hand.”

            “I will be the one to do that.” Odin maintained, regarding Thor with more interest. “You need not make such writs.”

            “My rule will last longer than yours, father. Let me guarantee this for as much time as I will see and I will save more than I have lost to Valhalla. He may retaliate the moment that you die, but I may outlive him.”

            “If you betray your vows, he will have sanction to take your life.” Odin said with simple directness. “He will await this.”

            “I am loyal to this realm. I will swear to protect for as long as I live, as you have.”

 

             Loki feathered over his stained shirt with his free hand, grassy sparks trailing over his body like stars above a planet. This new damaged had mangled a sizable portion of his ribs and thrust them against his lungs. Loki knit the flesh on the outside back together with another wave, but did not venture beyond the surface. _I can’t fix this here. Not bone, not muscle. Not with so little time._ Thor had finished his lecture and was coming back, a blade in his hand. Loki shifted with as much speed as he could bear to an upright position. He drew his dagger with a flourish of orange. The blade flashed with light as Loki swathed it in hissing flame. Yellow marbled his skin from his fingertips to elbow like lava, pulsating with blood and the energy it conducted. 

Thor knelt before Loki, making it plain by a dip of his head that his action was not one of utility-- it was an acknowledgement. He averted his eyes from the threat of fire and turned a palm skyward atop his knee. He laid the blade lightly between two fingers, bisecting his palm.

            “I, Thor Odinsson, last heir to the throne of Asgard, vow to lay no blade, no poison, no magic nor the thunder of my hammer upon you. I vow to act only in the defense of your realm unless it threatens the safety of Yggdrasil. I vow to do you no harm, if it be so sealed in blood.” Thor’s voice was taught as he looked past the greedy licks of Loki’s flames in the air and into igneous eyes.

Loki lowered his blade to rest on his outstretched hand. He inhaled tentatively.

“This is what you planned to ask of me, isn’t it?” Loki said with irritation. “To render me harmless to your realm. Very well, _Odinsson._ ” Loki proceeded, his words like acid on his tongue. Thor was unflinching as the fire flared in Loki’s palm.

            “I, Loki, borne of kings Laufey and Farbauti,” Thor paled miserably and started to interrupt, but deferred to the voice of the giant. “Vow to lay no blade, no poison nor the fire of my lineage upon Asgard unless I pronounce the safety of my realm or the others in peril. I vow to use no fire against your realm without apparent threat to my interests. To you, Thor Odinsson, I vow to stanch my fire, but nothing more.”

            “How do I know that you will not do me ill?” Thor demanded hotly.

            “Do my terms not appeal to you, Odinsson? I thought them quite generous considering your persistent mockery.” Loki replied with polite smoothness. “And it is as you say, _I_ am not ‘so mighty _,’_ so what have you to fear?” Thor bore him a look of loathing and clenched his hand around his weapon, blood lapsing from his knuckles.

            “I accept.” Thor answered despondently. He split open the skin of his palm, producing a barbaric gash. Loki inhaled suddenly.

            The pain of his own blade was dust in comparison to his chest. Rivulets of scarlet dripped down Loki’s hand, hot and continuous. Thor extended his bloody hand and Loki clenched it, displacing fluid of mismatched hues. It pooled between them, the runoff of their lifebloods. It separated in its puddle like oil and wine.

            The Bifrost started to hum again and Thor turned, expecting their messenger to stand at its front. Loki jerked away from his grip and knelt, disregarding the blood at his feet.

            It was then that Farbauti corporalized in the Bifrost.

 


	11. Chapter 11

Farbauti instantly matched the unsheathed weapons of the guards with two blades, one as long as a horse's leg and the other scarcely surpassing his forearm. The frost giant was unnervingly tall and his musculature rippled under his grayed skin. He was outfitted with thin, coal-like metal armor on his arms, waist and chest. The former general had been dubbed “cruel striker” in wartime by his troops for his lethality with blades. The use of this title far outweighed other labels. Farbauti was rarely spotted in any diplomatic setting; Laufey's aptitude for drawing compromises eclipsed Farbauti's tigerish demeanor. The guards arranged themselves near the royal family members with their own weaponry. Several raised their swords as if to institute his place. The giant awarded the guards no mind despite their blatant attempt to appear formidable.

The giant cleared the space to his son in four rapid steps. Thor staggered away from Farbauti and hurriedly rose to his scarce 6'6”. Farbauti lent Loki his arm, leading him to stand with more momentum than his faltering body was prepared for. A sound of pain too high for Asgardian ears escaped him and Farbauti slowed. He struggled to place his feet. Loki tried to draw a solid, controlled breath that would diminish the burning in his cheeks. Farbauti crouched to be at a like height instead of having his son at mid-chest. Loki exhaled as smoothly as he could manage, hopeful that Farbauti would somehow overlook his distress. His birthsire was attentive and deducing, seldom tricked by his children. They locked eyes for a moment, Farbauti examining his flustered face with a parent's passion.

“Why is he injured?” Farbauti rumbled in an Asgardian dialect. He slid his swords together deliberately. Thor raised his dripping red hand and sodden sleeve.

“It was I.” Thor answered without missing a beat, uninhibited by the giant's rancor. Loki winced.

“What have you made him vow to you?” Both blades settled on Thor, one above his heart and the other to his Adam's apple. A guard lengthened his arm to the giant. Farbauti scoffed. “ _Please._ Place your limb where it may still obey you. _”_

Loki laid a warm hand on his birthsire's flank, causing Farbauti to shiver at the familiar temperature.

“We vowed no harm between to the two of us and the other's realm.” Loki replied in his native tongue.

“What are the terms?” Farbauti asked tightly as Loki curled a second hand around his arm.

“There are no other binding terms.” Loki lilted, continuing in Jotun. “Lower your blades, sire. They are equally deadly from their sheaths.”

“What are you playing at?” Farbauti growled. Loki made a pleading, clipping sound. The elder giant looked at him sternly. “I trust your judgment, child of mine.” Farbauti had promised Laufey that he would not seek out war, but the austerity of the situation had changed since. The Asgardian had sealed his vow in blood. To break this vow would be both dishonorable and a grant for the Asgardian to seek recompense in the same vein.

“Do you want for war?” Farbauti offered. Loki paused, surveying the Asgardians.

“I do not wish it today.” he said with conviction. Farbauti made a deep humming noise and looked up at Odin, who had kept a pleasant distance.

“Farbauti.” Odin acknowledged shortly, striding toward him.

“Allfather.” Farbauti boomed. “You stand. But this time I see it is not you that I cross steel with.”

“Thor's actions are those of a boy. Treat them as such.” Loki hissed at Odin's assured manner, the way he seemed to believe that his authority was divine, even over a king. In that moment, Loki was peevishly gleeful that Farbauti was here instead of Laufey. Farbauti was imposing in stature and his scar-flayed flesh. Where Laufey may have tolerated a condescending tone, Farbauti rejected the mere suggestion. Odin, accustomed to parlaying if a more political Jotun if at all, had overstepped from Farbauti's viewpoint.

“The boy who sent an army into Jotunheimr. The boy who clandestinely entered the realm of my absolute rule and killed my guards. The boy who assaulted all of my offspring and painted my temple with their blood. The **boy** who absconded with _all_ of my children as beaten prisoners and murdered a Jotun in front of them. The boy would have killed my children with his bare hands.” Farbauti laughed, a grating sound to the Asgardian ear. He stalked around the Asgardian king so that he had to pace in turn to match the giant's leer. “This _boy_ is old enough to make a blood vow, I think he is old enough to be accountable, Allfather. How inconvenient for him with such crimes to his name.”

“The others are royalty?” Thor stammered to no one in particular.

“Do you understand, boy!?” Farbauti barked. Thor flinched. “What possessed you, _Odinsson,_ in making a vow to the heir to my throne?” Farbauti asked with the deadliest of calms.

“Sire, it is done.” Loki implored in Jotun.

“Loki, why have you done this?” Farbauti asked listlessly, turning from Odin.

“They would never have let me leave.”

“You could have left in any waking moment, Loki. It is why we left the realm quiet.” Farbauti asked, perturbed.

“Not with my brothers.” Loki pressed.

“I do not have anger with you, fire child. Hold you tongue.” With that, he abandoned Loki's words and spoke in Asgardian.

“I will see that the Thor knows the consequences of his actions.” Odin reassured. Farbauti sneered.

“ _I_ am the consequence, Allfather,”

“No.” Odin said with unwarranted finality.

“What would you have me do?” Thor questioned. The giant scowled at the prince. Odin lurched forward, uncertain of the what the Jotun might do. Loki could tell that Farbauti had yet to decide. Undoubtedly, he wanted the prince's life. Farbauti desired the blood return, to mist their realm with red as Thor had the temple.

“Thor is a great warrior. Perhaps he can someday be of use to you in battle.” Odin offered. Farbauti snorted and looked at Thor distainfully.

“There is nothing I desire from you, boy. Odin speaks truth, you are a man in form but not in fact.” He touched the tip of his blade to the center of Thor's chest. “Run along home, little princess, but know that you are in the debt of Jotunheimr. And more, at my mercy.” Farbauti did not bother to wait for a reply.

“Loki, we're leaving.” Farbauti said in impatient Jotun. Loki nodded and followed sluggishly, pain blossoming across his chest, He gave another high-pitched whine unique to the vocal arrangements of a Jotun. Farbauti went to him and aided Loki with his arm. There was not ignoring the cracks of pain in his breathing as he took a few steps.

“Going through the Bifrost could worsen his injuries.” Heimdall boomed, voice toneless. Farbauti ground his teeth, well aware of the jolting interrealm transport. Farbauti looked at his child and felt a pan of longing. Loki was a moment away to returning; he could see the uncertainty of his sire.

“I'll stay here and be certain I can pass through the Bifrost when I have recovered.” Loki reasoned.

“They could not do you any harm,” Farbauti said, largely for his own benefit. “They are not stupid. Are you sure?”

“I am. Tell Laufey that I will be swift.” Loki offered the toiling giant. “Do not come back for me, I will follow after a time.”

“We'll see.” Farbauti. “Open the Bifrost, gatekeeper.”

The energy reverberated and the building creaked. Everything fell quiet in time, save for Loki's heart hammering against the shrapnel of his bones.


	12. Chapter 12

The three moons were ghostly coins in the sky when Farbauti arrived. He mounted a snowbeast and jabbed it with his heel, speeding over the powder snow to the palace. Laufey had been distracted by Byleister and Helblindi, making it a child's task to slip away. Farbauti was looking forward to seeing his boys, but more of how satisfying it would be to behead Thor. Farbauti was certain that Loki was sound of mind in whatever he had done—he had learned from the best. It still made the giant uneasy to step away. He almost hoped that he had provoked them enough to attack Loki and be engulfed in unnatural fire.

What bothered him most of all was how Loki had asked him to stand down, Laufey would later find some suave way to talk down Farbauti's frustrations, but he traveled with content in his fury. He had left empty handed. Thor was so worthless that there was not one boon to ask of him and Farbauti was sure that he had wounded Loki intentionally.

When he arrived at the palace, he found his mate away from the throne room. The guards acknowledged him with almost reflexive loyalty. Farbauti strode off to the chambers of his children. The royal chambers aligned in the same hallway on the highest level.

He opened Loki's door—the room had been left a mess, but even with the books on the floor, it seemed barren. He closed it soundlessly and peeked into Byleister's. The room was likewise dark, but Farbauti could distinguish the silhouette of the princeling. He smiled softly, realizing where his mate was.

Helblindi's room was bathed in dim light. Laufey looked up from the sleeping child's bedside.

"He went out like a snowflake on a flame." Laufey murmured, brushing Helblindi's hair idly. He stood, taking care not to disturb him. Farbauti slumped against the doorway, feeling as though he did not deserve the affections of his mate for his failure.

"You couldn't get him." Laufey realized, happiness fading from his face. He said nothing, not wanting to interrogate his mate and knowing that answers would come of their own accord. Laufey followed his mate into the hall. Farbauti closed Helblindi's door a little louder than he meant to.

He shook his head miserably.

"I'm going to our chambers." Said Farbauti soberly.

"I should like to know what happened," Laufey said with quiet empathy. "Unless you prefer to leave it for sunrise."

Farbauti sighed and rolled his shoulders. Laufey extended a hand and rubbed his mate's back as they neared their rooms.

"I'm sure that not all is lost." Laufey ventured, opening the door. "He did well by sending those two back."

Farbauti fell languidly onto their bed amidst luscious furs. He did not speak at first, a myriad of thoughts boiling.

"Loki made a blood vow with their prince. Its sole binding is for the prevention of harm to each other's realms." Farbauti exhaled tumultuously. Laufey's cheeks appear to hollow. "There are no extra terms."

Laufey looked momentarily relieved.

"Then they won't have to be afraid of Loki burning them." Laufey muttered. "Their prince? This will outlast us, Farbauti." There went the insurmountable power of his fire mage—Laufey supposed that Loki could still harm them unintentionally if necessary.

"Thor Odinsson did something to him, wounded his chest. That piece of work even raised his red hand to admit to it." Farbauti said vehemently. "They also claimed blindness to the identities of our own, so I suppose you were justified in concealing their names instead of isolating them on Jotunheimr."

"How does Loki fare?" Laufey asked somberly.

"I am not certain beyond his wounds. He had his dagger. I would like to know how he concealed it." Farbauti rolled over into the fur and said the rest of his words into their fibers. "It would have been unwise to send him through the Bifrost with such wounds."

"I would have stayed with him." Laufey shot back. Farbauti gave a deep growl befitting of his stature and race.

"You coddle him, my dear. You have helped him to his magical prowess. You must see that Loki needs none to guide his sword." Farbauti snickered. Laufey growled in response, pulling off both of their shoes.

"And do I coddle all of my family? Has this burdened them as they grew to be virtuosos in swordplay and magic?" Laufey bantered. He joined Farbauti and propped his head on his elbow. Farbauti snaked his way over until their shoulders aligned, both lying on their sides. "I've coddled you so much, I think you've gone soft."

Farbauti growled again and slammed Laufey on the bed, pinning his shoulders to the mattress. Laufey chuckled as Farbauti nipped harshly at the edges of his throat and jaw.

"Mmh, yes. I know now. You are the most docile among of our people." Laufey teased. Farbauti silenced him with a particularly hard bite.

Sunlight was seeping into Byleister's room. He stirred, burrowing is head under a pillow. The giant tried to turn over, but found that Helblindi had twisted in his blankets during the night. Any other day, Byleister thought hazily, Any other day, I'd shove you on the floor. Helblindi's breathing was still soft and his face was serene. Byleister blinked at the youngest and parted the hair that had grown freely, now midway down his neck. The skin was puckered with navy blue scars that had not begun to fade. Byleister trailed down his collar, following parallel lines that resulted from Thor whacking him against the column.

Byleister covered his brother's head with the rest of the blanket and eased away. I'm home. He had thought it would feel special, more welcoming perhaps, when he returned. Byleister trudged out without closing his door and went to their commons at then end of the hall. Water dripped out of the faucet in the bathroom. He listened to it, drop after drop, mesmerized in his waking.

His parents' door creaked open and Farbauti stepped out. He looked at Byleister thoughtfully.

"Where were you last night?" Byleister demanded sourly. Farbauti was taken aback. He was hesitant to tell Byleister of what he had done, if it would reassure him or not. He did not want to keep the truth from him if it was not actually necessary. "You just disappeared."

"Come, sit." Farbauti beckoned. "There are things you should know about your brother."

Byleister's eyes widened and he followed his sire obediently. Farbauti sat down on their fur-wrapped couch and folded his hands. He proceeded to tell the boy of his visit to Asgard.

"He did lie." Byleister fumed, clenching his hand around a bunch of fur. "He said that he was fine."

"Loki lied. What else is new?" Farbauti mused, dismissing Byleister's frustration. Byleister grumbled in protest.

"Don't you wonder if he lied to you?" Byleister said unexpectedly. Farbauti's expression hardened and Byleister wished he'd stayed quiet.

"He would not dare." Farbauti replied fluidly.

Helblindi peered around the corner.

"Hi." He said sleepily. "Where's faðir Laufey?"

"Good morning to you too," Byleister muttered.

"He's busy being king of Jotunheimr. Join your brother, young one." Farbauti said in an effort to sound reassuring.

"You're back."

"Aye." Farbauti replied grumpily.

"Then… If you went there and you came back, where's Loki?"

AN: Laufey birthed Helblindi and Byleister, whereas Farbauti birthed Loki. This is not a direct interpretation of the mythology, though I have read most of it (and I highly recommend it!) Thanks SO MUCH for all of your responses! I hope you like the Jotunheimr chapter. The next will return to Asgard. I'm ecstatic, I'm seeing Thor 2 again tomorrow. Yessssssss.


	13. Chapter 13

Loki's heart thumped like a jackhammer as he stared into the galaxy beyond the Bifrost. All of the guards closed in on him, the bloody Jotun with his still-bleeding palm. His panting was suddenly supplemented by a painful gargle as a trickle of hot blood spurted up and onto his tongue.

"Guards!" Thor called, lacking direction. Loki opened his mouth to breath and Thor saw it was red with his blood. Thor edged towards him as if he were going to offer aid. Loki put up a hand, warning him to keep his distance. The giant was hazardously unsteady on his feet. Loki leaned against the wall awkwardly.

"Can you walk?" Thor asked from a few feet away. Loki was not sure, but there was no way he would let the Asgardian lay a finger on his body. "Help him to a room in the east wing."

Two guards broke away to escort him, but stopped at gesture from their king.

"Stand aside. Thor, you are to go with him." Odin ordered. Loki blinked at him skeptically. Thor looked murderous. Odin beckoned him and spoke quietly.

"He may kill me in a thousand different ways, father. He may break his vow." Thor said, exasperated.

"I would have him know that you are a man of your word." Odin maintained. "What's more, I wouldn't trust the guards not to antagonize him." Thor groaned. "He asked king Farbauti to stand down; safe passage is the least you can offer him."

"Let the guards do their job, I'll pay him some petty kindness later if that is what you wish." Thor said, trying to dismiss Odin's order. Odin seized his arm.

"Did you know that you tormented the three Jotun princes?"

"I knew nothing of it." Thor retorted, pulling back.

"You will go to him and exercise the sincerity you are capable of or you may find yourself in the dungeons this night."

"He's just going to leave when he heals anyways. Why won't you just reason with him?" Thor bit back, still judging if the threat was empty or not.

"It is as Farbauti said—you have made your choices. You have insulted Jotunheimr, including their future king. While you may be too foolish to comprehend that you have terrorized children—yes Thor, children, regardless of size—it's not lost on their royalty. There's not a foreseeable reunion in the future and you cannot let their crown prince leave with such ill will to you." He steeled his hands on Thor's shoulders, squeezing painfully hard. "You need to get control of yourself now. You have done well in your vow, yet I can see that it was of necessity. It is crucial that you enforce it with some sentiment of friendship or neutrality."

"I hardly think he'll take kindly to the man who handled his brothers." Thor replied bitterly.

"Do you wish to find yourself in the dungeons? Must I take him back myself?" Odin barked. "Or did it ever fleetingly cross your mind that I may have other matters to attend to? I suspect that the prince would be satisfied with you in the dungeons. You would disgrace your name no further." Odin released a distraught Thor. "Speak to me after he is situated."

Thor slogged to Loki, who had taken to leaning against the wall with the middle of his back curved outward. He looked trapped. Loki eased away from is support, struggling all the while to keep the pain from his face.

"I apologize for that misunderstanding." Thor said bluntly as Loki took a tentative stride. "It was not my intention to worsen your wounds."

"Do not insult me by acting as though you have done nothing else." Loki spat vehemently. Idiot. It was agonizing enough that he had to move in a way that minimally rattled his form. Loki trudged out of the Bifrost, followed by the Asgardian prince. The Bifrost livened with each step, glowing with an array of brilliant colors.

"I… It is as your brother said. He was sorry for the deaths. I am sorry." Thor fumbled. "I should… not have done that to those two."

"Say not another word about my brothers, Odinsson. They are none you hold dear and you have twice threatened their lives." Loki fumed. How dare he talk as though they were on warm terms. "You do not get to speak of them."

"I was never going to kill them—"

"And who were they to know? To resist?" Loki snarled. "You are a cruel, vain prince. I should have stabbed your foul heart."

"Well, thanks for stopping your father." Thor tried, lightening his tone. Had Loki meant to kill him then? The giant clawed his fingers into his palm.

"I didn't do it for you." Loki muttered. He had not wanted a war. "You have what you want now, why don't you gallop away to violate another realm?"

"For I have wronged you, Loki, son of Laufey and Farbauti." Loki sneered, the names sounding warped on his tongue.

"No, I can see that Odin demands your sniveling apologies." Loki said dryly. "You sought me in Jotunheimr, didn't you? I wonder what you would have done then." Thor paused. He tried to swallow, but found that the moisture had abandoned his mouth.

"Aye. I would have taken any one of you."

"And yet you still slew our guards, even after they could no longer resist you."

"They attacked us on sight. It is no marvel." Loki made an indifferent humming noise. They walked in silence through the castle. Thor stopped at an empty guest room and turned to go, relieved to be done with the giant.

"There is one thing I would like to know." Loki said softly.

"Anything." Thor said huskily.

"Why didn't you kill me when you had the chance?"

"It would bring war to this realm." Thor blurted. Loki cackled as though someone had accidentally spilled a goblet of wine on their breeches.

"What an obvious lie." Loki said, drawing out his words in a taunt. "It is plain that you crave it."

"Loki, wait—" Thor reached for Loki's arm. The giant instantly drew his dagger and prodded Thor's stomach with the tip.

"Do not touch me again, Odinsson or you will have a little less of you hand to call your own." Loki hissed, remembering the stolen touch of his cheek. You will never lay another finger on my kin, you bastard.

"I am glad that you live." Thor said as the door closed. I'll be lucky to live past morn. He kicked the wall in frustration.


	14. Chapter 14

Thor rapped on the door to the king and queen's chambers. Frigga opened it and for an instant, Thor thought that she would slap him. This thought vanished when she hugged him as though she had not seen him in a year. She made a choked noise into his shoulder and reddened in embarassment.

"I'm sorry." Thor said simply, though not certain for which infraction.

"I'm leaving you two to talk." she said. She dropped her shoulders and proceeded down the hall without so much as looking at him. Frigga herself would not say so, but Thor knew she wanted no words with him.

It hurt as though someone had taken a fistful of his insides and twisted them. He watched her walk until she turned, out of sight.

He entered to find Odin seated in his regal armchair. Thor knelt and let his neck stoop.

"You have either acted very bravely or very ignorantly. Perhaps both. It rests on your understanding of your vow."

"That was what you wanted, was it not?" Thor said shakily. He rose.

"Not in blood, Thor. You have added a buffer between his power and our realm." Odin sighed, the mere words seeming a burden. "You have treated the Jotun princes with cruelty unsuited to a king. You are also in king Farbauti's debt."

"What would you have me do?" Thor asked dubiously. Odin sighed again, this time more laboriously.

Thor scowled.

"I have spoken to Frigga. She agrees that you have acted vainly and brutally, and I have seen from your repetitive immaturity that you are not ready to be king."

"I did the best that I could in your sudden absence," Thor said with a sharp, defensive tone. He gestured to the window. "There was no warning and nothing _\- nothing_ , father- prepared me for this type of warfare."

"You brought Jotunheimr and Asgard into crisis with your own war. Droves of Asgardians died because of your urge for revenge."

"I have not killed any Asgardians!" Thor cried desperately. "How was I to know that so many would perish? I never meant for that to happen."

"You are young and I hope for your sake that you learn." Odin said slowly.

"I learned, I protected Asgard from more attacks by that Jotunar. I made a vow that will last Asgard for centuries." Odin was impassive.

"From now on, my absence will be filled by Frigga and the advisory of our guards. Since you seem to think that your judgment outweighs that of your mother's, I must declare that your priority falls below her's. You will no longer be a standing heir in times of hardship or when my hand does not stay this realm. You are not fit to act as king."

"You're wrong." Thor said stonily.

"Your poorly intentioned actions have lead to this mess." Odin paused and shook his head. "Have you forgotten everything I taught you? I had a truce with Laufey and Farbauti. You broke that truce the moment you decided _as king_ to open this realm to the horrar and desolation of war. We would be beyond diplomacy were it not for their crown prince. And Frigga can hardly fathom what you did to the child heirs." Thor started to speak, but Odin silenced him with a look of disappointment that made his stomach sour. "I do not care what possessed you, Thor. I do not care for your excuses. You have acted brutally. You must learn how a king commands his people before you will ever hold this throne. I wish Balder were still here to advise you."

"I will prove to you that I am a worthy heir." Thor said tautly. "Let me speak to mother."

"She will speak to you if she wishes." Odin said with a note of resent. Thor glared at him, challenging the Allfather. Odin cleared his throat. "We're done here. Go back to your quarters."

"Watch me, father. These realms have need of me." Thor strode out and slammed the door in his wake.


	15. Chapter 15

The first thing any sorcerer worth his salt set on was making themselves as hard to kill as possible. Loki layered wards on himself, being deliberate in his use of energy. He then examined the door, the glass window and the oak floorboards, considering fortifications. He placed his palm on each surface and extended a transparent sheet of heat over them, enough to blacken anyone who would enter unwarranted.

After he felt modestly secure, he surveyed his arrangements with less scrutiny. They had provided him with a blanket-laden Asgardian bed, a bathroom and a sitting area. It seemed fairly standard. The room was graced with an ornate fireplace, decorated with coils of gleaming metal and tile. There was a single window that overlooked a flourishing courtyard, currently muted by the night. A couple of velvet armchairs furnished the sitting area and behind them was an untouched shelf of Asgardian lore, containing little to piqué the giant's interest.

Loki stripped away a blood-stained tunic and dark metal armor from the past battle, tossing them on one of the armchairs. His skin itched intensely; he raked his fingernails across his forearm and immediately wished he had not. His skin was coated with weeks worth of accumulated skin cells and sweat that stuck under his nails. His disgust with his condition did not end there- the stickiness from blood clung to his hand and chest. And then there was the nastiness in the memory of Thor's touch on his cheek.  _That scum._  He thought, clenching his teeth. He flaked off a piece of dried blood from his chest to find that the underside of it was still moist. The blood of a giant was thicker than an Asgardian's, having been created to protect against the harshness of the realm. The result was dense blood that cracked on the surface but remained sticky on his skin.

Loki slunk into the unfamiliar white Asgardian washroom and pieced together that the tub had something to do with running water. He fumbled with the shower until it drenched him with a torrent of tolerably cold water. He rubbed his eyes then looked down and fixating on a pool of crimson liquid, a viscous blend of blood and water. It lapped on the sides of the tub, leaving ugly smears. He shivered at the sight, feeling as if someone had run an icy claw down his spine. He steadied himself with a hand to the wall and let water drip down his front. Loki squeezed his eyes shut and leaned into the stream, allowing the reality of where he was to slip for a lost moment.

When Loki finally opened his eyes and peered at his feet, red was still swirling faintly. He let the water run off his stomach for a few more moments to erase the last remnants of blood. Feeling satisfied with his skin, he turned the temperature as high as it would go and shifted to soak the length of his hair. The room filled with steam so thick that Loki could not see far enough to find a towel, so he purged the water on his skin with a burst of heat. He wrung his hair and let it drip steadily on the tiles. Loki relaxed as a cloud of steam filtered into his lungs. He held it until his body demanded otherwise.

Loki opened the door and the steam wafted into the adjoining rooms. He dried the mirror with a fluffy cloth and examined his form. He quickly noticed the curve of a detached rib nudging his skin. He closed his eyes and hovered a hand above his chest, probing with magic.

A few ribs remained in form, or at least mostly. The cartilage had stopped a few chunks of bone from straying, but much of the bone had been forced in or sideways. He cursed under his breath and placed a finger on one of his fractured ribs. Loki stopped his efforts almost immediately. Trying to coax it into place with magic made him feel like someone was dragging a scalding blade through his flesh.

 _There has to be another way._ He thought dismally. He felt for it again, this time noting loose flecks of bone.  _Those can't be left alone._

Loki was drawing a blank on how to remove them; he could cut them out or attract them with magic, but there were at least a couple dozen of them. He decided to fuse the largest sections first, bones that had broken but not fallen far from their main.

This was not the sole time he had mended bone, having repaired Byleister's arm when he tumbled down a staircase. It had been a targeted effort, magic performed with ease. But in alone in the Asgardian chamber, this wound was another beast altogether. Byleister's treatment had left his younger self exhausted and Loki knew it would be taxing. Loki positioned two fingers on the side of his ribcage and fused two more sections of bone. The sensation that followed was not entirely unpleasant, akin to a firm pinch. He connected a couple more sections of bone, pivoting to pinpoint his magic. His hand began to feel heavy from the energy demands. He forged on for a moment, then gasped in pain when he laid his fingers on his skin with more force than he had meant to.

 _Stop,_ he told himself,  _Do this properly._  The prospect of leaving Asgard was so enticing he found himself needing to talk away his will to continue.  _You'll only make things worse if you do too much at once. You already fixed multiple significant fractures._ His ribs did seem a little more secure. A blackish blotch seeped across his whole front, aggravated and tender, particularly over his sternum. Perhaps his body could do some natural healing.

Loki made himself look away and walked to his clothes on the armchair to furnish himself with his dagger. He stuck it under the pillow of the bed, then eased under the decadent coverings. He laid face up on the mattress to avoid pressing on his bruise. He dimmed the lights and swept the drapes in front of the window. He left the canopy of the bed open so that none could sneak up on him. He closed his eyes, noticing the thickness of his tongue and the way his breathing warmed his nose. The bed drew him in to sleep like a stone in quicksand. He checked his magical defenses in the room and then drifted into a light rest.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki dreams and gets a message.

Loki dreamt a silvery night with a field of decadent, black flowers with shard-like petals. Intricate lines that swirled in strange patterns decorated them. They tinkled against each other like miniature wind chimes in the breeze. They grew as high as his knees and reflected the moon's stagnant light. He eased his way through the flowers, curious about the field that spanned this entire realm. They nicked his legs as he walked and mangled the hide of his boots. Regardless the blood they drew, Loki thought them beautiful under the moon.

Someone rustled the flowers in the distance, causing chilling peals as the petals knocked together. He drew no identity for this newcomer; he only saw that they looked to be dusted with gold. Loki stood still, uncertain if he would scare off this luminous being. He watched for a time that passed by too quickly to comprehend.

The sun began to rise and all the flowers gradually became the same marvelous gold.

Loki broke not a run, putting out the pain as the flowers opened slits on his ankles. The figure he was chasing was nearly indistinguishable from the flowers.

"Wait!" he called desperately. The sun found its height in the sky faster than any real planet would and caused gold light to glisten from dew. All he could see was golden flowers and the trail of his blood on their petals. He slumped to his knees and yanked a fair flower from the ground, furious with its mocking gleam. He cracked the petals off angrily. One by one, they blackened from his touch. He pressed a yellow petal to his trembling lips.

_It can't have gone far._  He thought.  _Not too far for_ me _to find._

His last effort was to torch the field. It smoldered for a surreal moment and Loki watched it with an air of detachment. And then it was ruin, complete with ash that billowed on the wind. The smoke faded and the golden being was nowhere he could see, all tracings of the brilliance having vanished in the flame.

* * *

Loki woke with such a stiff neck that he knew he had not slept away only that night. He peered at his bare chest. His bruise had receded to a tangible patch the size of his hand. He sat up gingerly in a futile attempt not to aggravate his chest. The muscle felt more cohesive than before and the pain was a persistent throb. He took a breath of the sour Asgardian air; it still stank even after he had been there for weeks. Perhaps he would give them the benefit of the doubt that it was the confines of the castle.

He summoned his clothes and tried to cleanse the crispness of the blood. He wasted a moment on this before deeming it futile. With a resigned sigh, he unfolded the garments.

It was as if he were sliding on an age-old animal skin; it might as well have been complete with larvae. The prince had  _never_  had to wear something so demeaning, but he did not wish to glamor himself as a substitute for clothes.

_Let them remember how they have betrayed my trust._

He opened his door to find a basket of food and cloth, topped neatly with a scroll. There was yet another guard posted. This Asgardian knelt. Loki had no response for the Asgardian and did not fancy his own hygiene, so he snatched the basket without a word.

He dumped the basket on the bed and broke the wax seal on the scroll. It fell open on the blankets. Prince Loki, it began. At least they used his title.

 

Prince Loki,

I am sorry that you are in Asgard under such conditions, but please consider our palace's amenities yours. Please do not be hesitant should you have need of anything.

Odin informed me thatthe degree of your injuries is significant; this is a great sadness to me. It is my understanding that you are highly proficient in the arcane arts, but should you feel a healer necessary, I offer my skills. As a user of magic myself, I am painfully familiar the difficulties in healing oneself. Truthfully, I would never choose to do it unless it was dire.

We invite you to join us in our evening meal if it suits you. I heard that you had been bloodied and so I had some clothes sent for you to use during your stay. I am disgusted to hear that such a "miscommunication _,"_  as it was put to me, occurred. I hope that they are to your satisfaction.

I look forward to making your acquaintance,

Queen Frigga

 

Loki skimmed the note a second time. Come to think of it, he knew next to nothing about the Asgardian queen. He figured that Odin overshadowed her and that she was a maternal thing, particularly with the loss of Balder. She must have given in to Thor's every demand when he was a child; why else would he behave with such a putrid sense of entitlement? This was not the way of all royalty—why, his generation had been scared to humility by Farbauti. He wished he could accept her offer to heal him, but he owed the queen nothing and preferred to keep it at just that. The idea of sharing a purposeful meal with them seemed dubious. He smirked at the idea of their "miscommunication" as the Asgardians had put it; what a proper excuse to test their strength.

Loki pawed at the clothes they had brought. The fabric was silken and sturdy, presumably of good make. He shook off his soiled clothes and pulled on an olive-green tunic with some difficulty, followed by a thick pair of pants. The garments were nice enough, but their fabrics were a strange sensation on his skin; so soft that they might have tried to cuddle him. He found his tall leather boots and fit his dagger inside.

Loki opened the door a fraction of an inch.

"How long until dinner?" he asked.

"'Couple hours." The guard replied gruffly.

"I'll show myself out," Loki said with a testing smile. "Do point me to your library."

The guard watched him for a moment and Loki was about to start to wherever the corridor lead him when the guard jerked his head.

"This way." He said suspiciously.

"Asgard and its never ending hospitality," Loki said as if he meant to praise a just deed. The guard scoffed and marched down the hall. Loki followed him, exhibiting no trace of coldness; he would  _not_  be seen for pettiness, the prince of Jotunheimr knew better.

_As soon as I'm in the library, none will leave me alone. I wonder if they'll even let me look around in this form._  He realized, his face splitting in a grin. The guard was staring down the hallway, making it child's play to change his shape.

He altered his skin to their odd, faint peach, passable for Asgardian skin. He muted his eyes to the olive of the tunic. They walked in silence for a few minutes and turned into a carpeted hallway. They came to the end of it and the guard held the door open for him.

"I will wai—" The guard cut off and clutched the hilt of his sword.

"By all means, carry on." Loki grinned, revealing a snowy set of very frost giant teeth. The guard scowled, but said nothing further. He entered in his Asgardian skin.

Rows of auburn shelves encompassed the library, each towering to the ceiling. There were four rings of shelves filled with more books than Loki had ever laid eyes on. The room was windowless and felt uncomfortably confined.

Loki was sick of being in Asgard—they took things of such magnificence, such as the library, and made them into claustrophobic traps. There were people  _everywhere_ ; there was hardly an unseen crook in the room. It was choking.

A librarian glanced up at him from behind a pair of spotless reading glasses as Loki approached. Loki tapped his fingers on his desk.

"Can I help you?" the librarian asked as though there was no one he would like to help less. It looked a labor to disengage from his book. He squinted at Loki. "I don't believe I've seen you in before."

"I'm just visiting, my friend. A well-read man like yourself can surely appreciate the value off such a venture." Loki said amicably. "I have heard your shelves are a collection of some of the finest tomes in all the nine realms."

"That they do. Where do you hail from?" The Librarian asked, now intrigued. Loki smiled and a faint blush crept up on his ears.

"I've been around. Álfheimr, Niflheimr." He took his hands from the desk. "Could I trouble you to show me to a particular collection, magic? I'm afraid I'm pressed for time this night." The librarian marked his page with a crow feather and beckoned Loki. As it turned out, the books of magic were central in the room. Loki gave a brisk word of gratitude.

"If you would not mind, sir, what do you call yourself? I list those who come in each day." The librarian explained. Loki raised an eyebrow.

"That would be telling, dear book keeper. You may list me as Hveðrungr for your purposes." The librarian looked skeptical, but left him just the same. Loki hummed, skimming the shelves. Most of the books had been printed on thick parchment that made them seem disproportional to the amount of information they contained. Loki was not looking for a specific subject, though when he glimpsed a book on healing, he plucked it from the shelf. He found a desk and leafed through the tome. It was written on making reparations to muscle during battle as a field healer. He bored of it within a chapter and re-shelved it.

He skimmed aimlessly for another row until a book on dreams piqued his interest. He opened it to the index first, looking for anything to link his dreams to. The list was sparse, ( _Damn these giant books!),_ but paused at the word Asgardian word for gold. The pages for it depicted a fountain of gold coins. The text carried on about desiring wealth and physical comforts. Perceived successes.

_That's not it at all,_  Loki thought bitterly. He gave the forward a once over, finding it written in a dull tone. He left it on the table and went to ask about anatomy books.

The guard pointed at him from the open door as he walked into view. Loki feigned having not noticed, heating one hand for defense. Someone had found him. He started to ask the librarian for directions, carrying on as with false ignorance. Loki was all too aware of footsteps on the wood floors. One set stopped at his side.

He turned. There stood a woman with richly curled brown hair. She was dressed in a robin's egg blue dress with tow-colored lacing. She held herself with a natural grace. She seemed happy to see him.

The attention of two vivid blue eyes vexed him; he had only ever seen their hue on one other person.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Libraries and royals and conversations no one actually wanted to have.

"Hello Loki." She said with a slight smile and a gentle nod. She did not look perturbed by his change of form. "I was just coming down for a time before dinner. The watch told me you were in here."

 _I bet he offered to step in and guard you._  Loki thought sourly. He pursed his lips.

"It is a pleasure, queen Frigga." He replied tightly, shoulders tensed back. "I received your missive. Thank you."

Frigga held her smile and it occurred to Loki that it might actually be sincere.

"Do come sit down," she said. "That is, if you're not busy with anything at the moment."

Loki could tell that she truly did not mean to impose upon him. Her manner was the most casual he had met in all of Asgard.

"But of course." he said smoothly, indicating a table with his hand. She sat down across the table from him and leaned forward. A faint shimmer of cyan as Frigga cast a spell to mute their conversation.  _You are either trying very hard at diplomacy or... Mean me well after all_.

"It is an honor to have you in our realm, Prince Loki," The giant looked on impassively, unwilling to minimize the circumstance. "Have you been successful in healing?"

"I'm getting there. It's arduous to mend bone." he conceded. She smiled sympathetically.

"Is there anything I can do?" she asked in a voice that Loki found uncomfortably maternal.

"Thank you, queen Frigga, but I see that I have to allow some healing in its own time." Loki straightened his spine against the chair. He tapped his fingers on his leg and found himself listening to the turning of pages in the library. "Was there something else?"

"I wished to know how you fared." Frigga replied. Loki figured that she was deliberately avoiding anything of importance.  _But I won't_. "How do you find the palace?"

"There is no place I'd rather be less, dear queen. If you have a mind to talk of what has passed, I will hear you." Loki offered the subject, suspecting that this was the real interest of the queen. Frigga's eyes seemed lighter now.

"If it eases you, Thor has been removed from his chain of command."

 _That's_ it? Loki thought. His face betrayed his emotion.

"Prince Thor is not in line for the throne as he was before. His actions were found by the king and myself to beinexcusable- I only wish I had stayed his hand on the matter of entering Jotunheimr." Frigga paused. "If you would be willing, I can take you from the palace for the span of a week. It's a few days until the full moon and I have a journey I would like to make. Perhaps it would give us some time to talk and you quiet to heal."

"Where would we go?" Loki asked cautiously. Why would she offer this to him? Surely there was more to it than a jaunt off someplace.

"The ice lake Kalda in four days time to see the full moon rise. The water reflects the moon, and as it does, it's an alluring source of magic, so much so that it tries to lure people under its frigid surface. It is the coldest lake known to Asgard." Frigga sighed as if in awe. "It is too cold for any Asgardian to survive in for more than a few moments and none have been able to use magic to stay in it- the lake seems to nullify any used while in it. It is a wonder in our realm. I suspect that the cold would be welcoming to you."

"When would we leave?" Loki tested, overwhelmed by his own curiosity. The lake sounded familiar. Magic was purposeful where it touched and he wanted to know why this place is affected, so much so that he wondered for a second if compulsion was at play.

"In the morning, before dawn. I do not wish the real to know that we travel."

"Who would we travel with? Your guard?" he said, his brows furrowing. He would comply with that if it was a condition.

"You and I, plus a small party of guards to hold a night watch. We would travel by horse and camp a day before arriving the night before the full moon." Frigga explained with building enthusiasm.

"I will join you." Loki said.  _Anywhere, take me anywhere but the main of Asgard. What harm can come of learning about their realm?_

"Delightful. Will you come to our table tonight?" Loki had a half a mind to decline just to save himself the mental strain of dealing with Thor. Loki felt that he owed Frigga something for getting him out of Asgard and to this strange lake.

"As you wish, dear queen." He said after a pause.  _This will be one of the most forced gatherings I have ever attended._  He thought humorlessly. Frigga bid him goodbye and went to speak with the librarian. When they finished, the spectacle-wearing man flashed him a dangerously curious look that Loki chose to ignore. He set his had on the table and marveled at the unusual Asgardian skin, pallid on his bones. He left the library with a pair of eyes trained on him. The guard barred the door when he approached as if he expected Loki to make a run for it.  _Loyal fools._  Loki requested a tour of the palace and the guard obliged reluctantly, finally looking relieved when he left Loki to the familiar private dining room.

 

 

Odin and Frigga were already seated when Loki entered, striding proudly. The posture of a prince was not as painful to keep up as it had been with the worst of his wounds. Frigga stood when he entered and Odin followed begrudgingly.

"Allmother. Allfather." he greeted, gracefully seating himself.  _Where's Thor?_ He thought, projecting an assured demeanor.

"You wear the skin of an Asgardian." Odin said matter-of-factly. Loki knew he was pushing for an explanation. Loki gave a sly smile.

"It draws less attention in this realm, Allfather. If you prefer it, I will skin myself another shade in this room." Loki replied, his tone level. Odin's brow crinkled.

"Whatever you prefer." Frigga said courteously. Loki inclined his head and opened his mouth to speak again.

His teeth clamped a sliver from his tongue when a jarring bang reverberated through the room.

"Mother," Thor said roughly. "Father." he hardly took notice of the third person at the table. He joined them without further ruckus (to Loki's amazement.)

"Who are-" Thor started to demand of Loki. Thor blinked and then his eyes opened to short-lived comical proportions before reverting to slits. "You." He spat.

"Prince Thor." Loki acknowledged innocently. Thor steeled his expression and clenched his hands in his lap.

"Are you well again?" Thor asked, staving off the distaste he felt in having the giant with his family.

"If you mean to ask when I will leave you realm, not for a week. Am I mistaken on the travel time, Allmother?" Loki said with a controlled smile.

"Perhaps two. We'll see." Frigga said calmly. Thor looked dubious.

"Where are you two traveling to?" Thor set on, scrutinizing Loki.

"We leave tomorrow for lake Kalda." Frigga answered in the easy demeanor Loki was beginning appreciate. "It was decided an hour ago."

"You cannot possibly go alone with him!" Thor snapped, a protective note in his voice. "I will go with you."

"Thor." Odin cautioned. "This is not your decision to make."

Frigga pursed her lips and said nothing for a moment.

"If Prince Loki s agreeable, you may go with us instead of our guards." She looked to Loki.

 _Thor will pursue us either way now that he knows._  Loki thought.  _Unless Odin has something to say about it._   _The queen would likely be eased by his presence._

"I do not object." Loki said loftily. Frigga and Odin exchanged a wary look. "We will surely be a safer party with your company."

"Aye." Thor ventured. He rolled his shoulders.

"Just the three of us then." Frigga said, lips pulled into a thin smile. Odin cleared his throat.

"How do the rulers of Jotunheimr fare?"

"Like  _kings."_  Loki replied, glancing at the Asgardian table. His artwork was gone. "Our realm is strong."

"No doubt well with the casket in your hands." Thor added. Loki considered feigning illness, but decided to use this audience to his advantage.

"I would like to know of the Kalda. You must know every corner of your realm, Allfather. What of it?" Loki inquired. Odin made a throaty sound of thought and then occupied the air with a tale that was merciful in that it allowed Loki to remain silent until the meal arrived. He excused himself promptly after and retired to his room for the night.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Road trip.

The magical defenses around his chambers woke Loki a moment before the rap on his door.

"Prince Loki, Queen Frigga requests your presence," a stiff, male voice informed him.

Loki took a full breath which welcomed itself with an unsurprising shot of pain. He dressed hastily, and then wedged his dagger into his boot. It felt sufficient to have metal and magic to defend him in this realm, despite the size of the weapon. He placed a costlier ward on himself that would detect a magic user from farther away than usual; if he monitored it, he would know of all arcane threats far in advance. Thor may be sworn not to hurt him, but Loki had no trust for any in the realm.

He opened the door and accepted the provided escort with a rambunctious smile. The man shied away from him with unmitigated disgust for the false color of his non-jötunn skin. Loki was tired of the reaction; if only he knew Asgard well enough to find a path without the guards. Independent of that, he would have been baffled if they let him wander around alone. The man started walking down the corridor, his ugly yellow cape sweeping behind him.

It was a stroke before true dawn, telling by the path of the moon. Loki was led into a secluded stable where a trio of fresh horses had been prepared for them. They had sable pelts with lush splashes of cream. Each was burdened with hefty saddlebags. The queen and the prince were already there, looking over the tack.

Thor blinked at him as he drew near, sleep still misted in his eyes. "You still wear your Asgardian disguise," Thor said, his nostrils flaring.

_Is it ever too early to pick a quarrel?_ Loki thought, choosing to keep the early morning quiet. Nevertheless, he shot a withering look at Thor.

"Good morning, Prince Loki. I trust you slept well," Frigga said, turning from one of the horses. Her voice was hushed and Loki wondered those were her first words of the morning.

He shrugged in response. He crossed to the last remaining horse, a fine beast which was just as regal as the Asgardian's own steeds. Or he guessed so. Loki stroked the horse's nose awkwardly, and Thor laughed as it pulled away from him.

"Have you never ridden a horse before, jötuun?" he sneered.

"Only beasts that can squash horses under their feet," Loki replied coolly. "About, oh, fifteen foot high, more or less?"

"Loki, left side mount," Frigga said calmly. "You're spooking the animal."

Loki flushed and quickly went around the other side. His mount was less than graceful, and it took a while to adjust himself on the animal's back. He sat awkwardly on the saddle, hefty piece of leather and metal.

Thor took to his horse and they followed in suit. "I'll ride in back," Thor asserted immediately, ousting any chances of having Loki behind him.

Loki did not reward him with a reaction, instead fumbling with the reins for a moment and trotting out beside Frigga.

"Relax, dear," Frigga said warmly, "and don't stay stuck to the saddle; let it move beneath you."

Loki twitched at the way she addressed him, but said nothing; he was too busy concentrating with staying on the horse. He was confused with Frigga's last piece of advice, though. When riding the beasts of Jötunnheimr, their fast gait meant that one had to stay as low and firmly attached to it as possible. He stayed stuck to the saddle, not moving an inch.

They rode into the dawn light and the flamboyant rise of the Asgardian sun. They stopped for a meal when the sun peaked among the clouds. Loki realized that they would be riding across a homogenous, grassy plain for the entire day — it was all he could see for leagues. He meandered in the grass, glad to have his feet beneath him once more; riding was painful not only with his wounds, but all over him; the insides of his legs bore blisters from the saddle and his stuff back ached. He longed for the steeds of Jötunnheimr; they made sense, and horses did not. Trying to take his mind off of his pain, he watched a lone black bird glide above him as he healed the saddlesores.

"How much longer does it take to cross these grasses? They look to be endless," Loki asked, exasperated, as Frigga approached him across the verdant field.

"We should stop and make camp at nightfall. The path is this valley until tomorrow. It's lovely later on — there are flowers like no other place in the nine realms," Frigga said wistfully. "I… I think you will appreciate them. They are nothing like those on Jötunnheimr," she added quickly.

Loki opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced by Thor's snort of indignation.

"I don't want to make camp by the moon. Let's go," Thor said in a tone that sounded all too much like an order to Loki. Thor caught sight of a stern Frigga. Her lip twitched. "If that's not a trouble, mother," he said in a softer voice.

"Loki, how do you feel about it?"

Loki did not want to ride anymore, but he didn't want to say it, least in front of Thor. His lip curled. "Ride on."

"Well, then, we'll go in a moment. You can pack," Frigga directed at Thor, giving him no humor.

"To the fields," Loki said to Frigga. She hid a smile and mounted her horse.

Loki could feel Thor's eyes on him as they remounted their steeds. Loki forced himself to ignore the scrutiny of the Asgardian. If Thor were in Jötunnheimr, he would be blind to their spying. He had bored of Thor's continuous need to hold his head higher than Loki's.

_He pretends his strength is comparable,_  Loki thought snidely as they set off, wincing.  _As if he had some divine intellect. He is in every breath a fool._

Loki spurred his horse to catch up with Frigga, leaving Thor to flaunt his suspicion by himself.  _Come, now,_ Loki wanted to say. _If I had meant to harm you, you would no longer have the skin to hold that contorted look._

He rode side by side with Frigga. He indulged Frigga on light details of his realm and a mention of how he would go into the taverns wearing a foreign face.

"That must be strange to not speak your own name to your people," she said, plucking at a detail he had purposely left vague. "Other than your family."

"It is not as odd as it sounds," Loki replied, trying to make the subject seem inconsequential without a hint of defensiveness. "I have many names and I can pick which I please when I mingle amongst the jötnar."

Frigga smiled and they spoke light words on magic as they rode.

They clopped through the fields and flowers became more abundant over a couple of evening hours. They brushed against their ankles and Loki saw a menagerie of red, purple, pink and blue speckling the ground in the distance. They were not bright colors, but each richly pigmented. It felt like he was looking out on a patchwork quilt.

The sunlight had faded when they were in the thick of the flowers, traded for the rising moon.

Frigga raised a hand to the side, signaling Thor to halt. "Let's stop here for the night," she called back.

Thor dismounted and began to hack away at a patch of flowers with abandon, clearing space for their tents; the flowers were too rigid to set a tent on. Loki unlatched the saddlebags.

"There are two tents," Thor informed him. "One for us, one for you."

_Us and them,_  Loki mused.  _Just keep your petals to yourself._ He piled the flower stems left in Thor's wake and lit a fire, careful to contain it in a small space. Without him, it would spread and devastate the vegetation.

Loki ate a hardly digestible dinner of dried meat and buttered bread beside it. Frigga and Thor joined him, the prince watching Loki all the while.  _He doesn't want me nearFrigga,_ he realized.  _But then again, would I want him near Helblindi or Býleistr?_

Thor tore through his ration and sat there with slitted eyes.

"When we are at the lake under the full moon, the night after next, there is one danger we must be wary of," Frigga said gravely. Thor snorted and nudged a stalk into the smoking fire at his mother's warning. "The lake will call to you if you get too close to it; such is the nature of its strange hidden magic. It's difficult for even me to resist. We must take care to near only the streams that feed it. I would not want to lose either of you under its surface."

"I'm not swimming in some frozen lake," Thor snorted, getting up to fuss with the saddlebags. "Whatever the jötunn's intentions."

"Thor, keep a few lengths back from it, especially on the night of the moon. Its magic can be alluring; we'll be fine as long as we distance ourselves. I would not have suggested it if I believed two grown princes were going to act foolishly."

Thor walked away to pitch their tent, seeming wholly unconcerned.

Frigga sighed. "Loki," Frigga said in a respectful voice. "Will you take first watch?"

Thor gaped at her, momentarily too stunned to have any obnoxious retort.

Loki nodded, suppressing a smile.  _Go on, challenge it, little marigold,_  Loki jeered, his green, Aesir eyes resting on Thor's to goad him. He flashed their color to the gemstone orange and Thor curled his lip.

It was Frigga who spoke next. "Let's get some sleep. I could see you swaying on your horse, Thor." She looked at him fondly.

Thor was sure to shoot a poisonous look at Loki as if to say that he would kill him if he tried anything. He followed Frigga to their tent without looking back.

Loki extinguished the fire with a final melancholy plume of smoke, leaving him alone with the moonlight. The field rustled and made hushed noises as the wind played with the dark flowers. He effortlessly crafted a throne-like chair out of ice, elevating himself another full height off the ground to extend his view. He did not notice when twin snores began to hum in the tent.

Loki conjured the illusion of a snake out of fire and let it slither between his fingers. He flexed the energy of his wards, scanning expertly for traces of magic. Something emitting a minute amount of energy flickered a few leagues away, so faint that Loki wondered if he was imagining it. He snuffed out the light of the snake.

There were four infinitesimal glows of magic, one in each direction. They were all moving as if to converge at the camp. If two of them had been directly next to each other, they would have been far easier to detect; one speck of energy could go unnoticed.

He conjured a tiny horse on his hand, maintaining his behavior as not to alert them. He extended a physical barrier around the camp, avoiding a stronger magical shield that would be an obvious sign he had detected them. His eyes fixated on the horse and he toyed with the number of legs it had as it galloped across his palm and puckered scar.

The four glows of magic took the better part of an hour to approach.

_I can't attack them all at this distance and defend the Aesir as well,_ he thought.  _Waking them would be a plain giveaway and fighting four possibly powerful sorcerers would be arduous._

They were about six meters away from camp when Loki decided that it was enough.

Without so much as relinquishing the horse, Loki circled the camp with an wide inferno.


	19. Chapter 19

The sudden roar of the flames shattered the silence. They blackened the ground and continued to surge unnaturally after the field was incinerated.

The magical concealments disappeared as the attackers cast spells to stop themselves from being scorched entirely. A hellish shriek of pain pierced Loki's ears, followed by an anxious high-pitched note of response from his right.

Loki felt an attacker try to snuff out the ring of flames. He augmented them, adding licks of blue to the orange. A draft of acrid smoke spiraled upward. There was a shrill cry of inevitable abandon as one of the four energy signatures vanished in the fire.

Loki pinpointed the strongest of the remaining three and jumped off of his perch with a snarl, dagger in hand and magic at his fingertips. He slunk towards the sorcerer amidst his own fire, unconcerned with their race or reason for the moment. The sorcerer was clad in a mixture cloth and lightweight metal which smoked and burned around his body. Loki knocked aside a burst of dark energy with a shield of blue fire and he shot four tendrils of crackling green magic forward. They were diverted with ease, but then curled around to strike the back of the mage. The creature emitted an agonized noise of pain.

In its moment of confusion, Loki closed the slim distance between them and plunged his white-hot dagger into its armored stomach. The metal made a satisfying shnick as the dagger melted through the metal plates like butter. Any blood that could have spilled was cauterized by the steaming blade. The sorcerer cried out and grabbed for Loki's arm to savage it with magic. Loki caught its wrist deftly with his free hand, spreading a vicious burn up its skin. It fell limp to the sorcerer's side, skin ashen.

Loki hastily bound its hands and feet with green threads of magic. He slid his blade out of its guts and then sliced them once more before letting the sorcerer fall. He kicked it in the side and intensified the flames under it. It would live, but the others did not need to; he only required one to sear answers from.

Let him worry about staunching that, Loki thought, prowling over the fire. He checked the position of the other magic users, not bothering with his eyes in the firelight. Two left.

He turned to go after another sorcerer, focused entirely on the sources of magic. A ball of magic was cast and Loki raised his shield, prepared to repel it.

Both fortunately and unfortunately, it had not been meant for him.

* * *

Thor had dived out of the tent when he felt the heat of the fire surrounding their tent and knew at once they had been betrayed. He had heard the battle cry of another being, a strange noise which he had never heard before. There was no doubt in his mind: Loki had brought frost giants after them and planned to burn them in their beds. There were no flames at his feet directly by the tent, but he figured they had not spread yet. Loki stood in front of him and Frigga sprung out in the other direction, targeting another sorcerer.

"You filthy traitor!" Thor bellowed, a mad look in his eye. The magic careened off into the fire, knocked aside by his hammer. He began to advance on Loki, but paused in fearful amazement for a moment as he saw what the giant so evidently wielded.

Loki's arms were illuminated with hot oranges and yellows, all the way to his fingertips. The visible skin was shot through with fissures of black that Thor mistook for veins in that instant. It was as if the giant had dredged his arms in lava. More than that were his eyes: they had the fiery color of molten steel. Loki's dagger was in his hand, almost indistinguishable in hue from his burning skin.

Thor could not stop to stare at this, though. He was a god and this, well; this was a treacherous creature from a weak, foul realm. He raised Mjölnir and the sky rumbled in response.

* * *

"Now there are three of them again," Loki muttered, wary to have so many assailants on the field. There was Thor, ever in his way—but where was Frigga?

Pallid blue light erupted behind Thor, surely the magic signature shade of the queen. A grunt of pain followed soon after.

This was but noise to Thor and Loki saw his temper rise. A peal of lightning met his hammer and Loki tore off to Thor's side, leaving a duplicate image in his place. Thor was easily tricked, sending a lightning bolt at the illusion. The false body appeared to crumple to the ground and Thor closed in on it, still safe from flame by the tents.

Loki's eyes darted around the flames, quickly finding Frigga. She was fighting two creatures, flame licking at her ankles. She brandished a short sword and was lithely supplementing her attacks with magic from her trembling hands. Her swordplay reminded Loki of Fárbauti — unrelentingly fast and naturally deadly in his grace. Loki realized that she was parrying magic with her sword as well as a flamberge, hardly two weapon-lengths from her foes. Loki drew a wall of fire between them and stopped a blast of pernicious yellow magic.

A streak of lightening descended from the night sky and boomed on the spot where a sorcerer stood. Sparks flew in every which way like droplets of water from a pond. The sorcerer smoldered on the ground, now a practically unidentifiable charred lump. Loki saw that Thor's face was strained and spoiled with blood and ash. His mouth was open slightly and he panted with the stress of breathing through the smoke cloud Loki had wrought. Behind Loki, Frigga parried another blow. She was too close to her challenger to turn away without risking herself.

Thor smiled a loathsome smile and flashed a hissing peal of lightning at Loki. Loki dove to the side to avoid it. Thor growled in frustration and edged towards Loki's fire, wary of its intensity.

Loki sheathed himself in fire—if he could get away from Thor, he could assist Frigga.

A lock of his black hair drifted free of his flame shroud and Thor glimpsed it among the flames. Lightening sizzled in the air around Thor and Loki whirled around, palms extended.

A rush of electric blue light collided with a slim magical shield over Loki's hands. The pressure the power exerted against his palms became painful in a matter of seconds as the light crushed on the shield. The light snapped with sustained power. It was a power Loki would later wonder not why, but how Thor could contain.

The fire on the ground vanished, leaving only cinders to indicate it had ever been.

Loki had not intended to hurt Thor in this skirmish, but the shock of the lightening was taxing to hold at bay. The energy from the Thunderer was impressive, he could concede—only if fire was not at play.

Loki's palms paled to white, menacingly hot and the green of his magic glowed from his fingertips. He flexed the shield and pulled one hand aside. Guiding his magic with only a subtle twist of his wrist, Loki swiveled the ground under Thor's feet. Thor lost his balance and magical direction, suddenly bracing himself against the dirt.

Loki did not give him a second glance. He tore away to lend the queen his aid.

Loki conjured a thick wall of fire between the queen and her foe.

Frigga was gasping for breath when Loki passed her. He could see her nightgown starting to soak through with blood. She had had no physical armor to protect her. The queen wavered on her feet, but clutched her sword stubbornly. Loki used the distraction of the fire to slip behind the sorcerer and plant a palm on its back. He lanced cold through the being in the sliver of a second, adding more and more energy until all blood flow ceased. Loki pushed the sorcerer forward and it shattered on the ground.

Loki lowered the fire he had put between the queen and the fragmented creature. She was on her knees, sword in hand. Thankfully, the last assailant had engaged Thor, who was waving his hammer around like a madman at Loki. Loki ran to Frigga's side.

"Get away from her!" Thor shouted, his voice choked with outrage. He held his hammer to the sky and then began to direct another strike of lightning.

Loki squeezed Frigga's arm to force Thor not to attack him, lest she suffer from the electricity in turn. Loki bent beside her and touched her shoulder gently despite Thor's approach.

Frigga's eyes were red with tears. She pressed a hand against her stomach.

"Dear queen, what ails you?" Loki murmured, hand easing toward hers.

She looked up into the fire of his eyes. "Thor, my son, it's alright."

Thor stopped just short of walloping Loki on the head. He readjusted his grip on Mjölnir.

She blinked a few times in succession and then spoke to Loki. "Some dark magic is at work. It's gnawing at my body," she panted, a tear finally trailing down her cheek. Her hand was glowing sky blue against her abdomen.

Loki bit his lip. It would be easier for her if he fixed the wound. He opened his mouth to give the offer reluctantly.

Without warning, Frigga toppled to the ground, unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments and encouragement! I love that people are enjoying it. Please let me know how you found the battle.


	20. Chapter 20

"Help me lay her down," Loki said, catching sight of Thor's astounded expression. He could not have Thor freeze up now. Loki growled, and then snapped, "Do you want her to die, Odinsson? Don't just stand there!"

Thor's unsteady hands reached for his mother. He lowered her to the cinders of the field; ash puffed up around her as she was laid down. He hovered over her with one hand on each side of her body, shielding her with his own and reluctant to let Loki touch her.

"What are you going to do?" Thor said with quiet menace. He met Loki's gaze with demand that Loki loathed.

Loki looked back as if Thor's presence was caustic. At any other time, he would have smirked and arraigned Thor for trying to attack him. He would not have been the oath-breaker if their blood had flowed.

Loki said nothing instead, working around Thor to strip away Frigga's gown. Thor gaped and dropped low to her.

The skin across her stomach bubbled with a lecherous yellow and black substance. It was seeping into her skin, shifting and beginning to draw furrows in it. The substance seemed to writhe fluidly against her flesh, twisting like a tick digging deeper. There was no blood, only a beige crystalline outline around the wound. Thor would have preferred a tangible to this putrid mess.

Loki laid a hand on her skin. Thor immediately did the same.

"She's cold," Thor said as if he did not believe it. "I—"

"Move, Odinsson," Loki snapped as he watched the substance help itself to more and more of Frigga's skin. It seemed to be like some sort of magical poison, though nothing he had ever laid eyes on before. Even in the moment he spent evaluating the damage, it seemed to have worsened. 

Thor's shoulders stiffened and he shifted a hand to touch Frigga's face. Loki growled, seeing there was no time to waste with sentiments. Thor was looming over her wound, right where he needed to be. Without looking up, Loki shoved Thor's nearest shoulder away from Frigga.

Thor fell back awkwardly on his hand and then lunged at Loki, seizing him by the arm.

"Are you done?" Loki spat, jerking his arm out of Thor's grip. Flecks of spit landed on his face.

Thor clenched his fist. "You will heal her and nothing more," he breathed.

Loki tipped his head at Thor as if he meant to chide him. "Please." Letting the queen die would be in bad taste; surely _that_ was not beyond Thor.

Loki gritted his teeth and bent over the queen. He brought his hands over the wound and spread his fingers. Flecks of dirty yellow rose from it like dust in the air and it built on his palms in a thin film. He felt nothing for a few seconds, and then it began to burn him, to sear him like fire never could. It was as if he had drenched his hands in acid.

Loki yelped and dropped the substance. It pooled on the ground, soaking into the ash. Loki sucked in a breath of relief and tried to steel himself against the inevitable burn. He fished for another wave of the substance and let it fall to the ground. Thor was watching him intently, especially the pain betrayed on his face. Loki forced himself to keep breathing as his hands flared with pain time after time. The substance clashed grossly with her pale skin and relented none as he removed it, burrowing deeper if anything. There was no telling how much damage it had already done and cast continuously, not even breaking to heal the savaged skin of his palms.

He worked for the better part of an hour, only truly breathing when Frigga's skin was no longer rancid with strange poison. Thor watched him all the while; Loki wondered if Thor would try to force him to stay if he abandoned Frigga. He made the mistake of looking up at him once and found himself facing vacant blue eyes. The golden prince may as well have been in the clouds of another realm altogether, scarcely tracking what was before him. Loki was relieved that Thor had not badgered him about his handiwork—probably because he was unread in it.

Loki touched the spaces where Frigga's flesh had been eaten away and filled it. He layered on healing magicks, mending the last traces of damage.

When he stepped away, her body looked entirely unmarred. Thor swooped in immediately and lifted Frigga in his arms. The queen was breathing peacefully. Loki started to stand, feeling as if he had fulfilled a role and now lacked a purpose to remain.

"Thank you, Prince Loki," Thor choked. It sounded wrong to both of their ears. 

Loki turned his profile to Thor and nodded slowly, not quite looking at him. "I left one of them alive, bound to the ground. It's still on fire over there." Loki's eyes gleamed like a cat's. "I want answers."

Thor's lips twitched in a grin. "I'm joining you. Can you mute their screams so she may rest?"

Loki nodded again.

Thor brought Frigga back to the tent and covered her with a blanket.

Loki strode to his captive and calmed the fire crackling around it. It struggled in vain as he approached, twisting in a last attempt to rip the bonds. Loki could only just see it by the light of the moon – its skin was blacker than pitch, hair and eyes following suit. It followed him with an oily gaze. Other than the dagger wound, it looked unaffected – if the fire had singed it, Loki could not see it on its skin. The armor it wore was made of almost jewel-like black metal. Ridges as thick as his finger divided it into sections, each ending with a sharp but clean edge. More delicately on the metal were runes.

"Are you dökkálfar, a dark elf?" Loki asked quietly, choosing the Æsir tongue. Their skin was known to be of such darkness. Loki was fairly sure of his deduction, more even when it bore its teeth at him. They looked like stone carvings. Loki conjured a pillar and magically raised the creature to it. He refastened it against the pillar, securing its limbs. It spat grayish saliva at him.

Loki fanned his fingers across the armor on its chest and melted the metal. He pressed his hands deeper as the metal dripped off. Its skin began to smoke and crisp under his palms and it twisted, struggling and whimpering against the pain.

In truth, he took no pleasure in torture. Fárbauti had demonstrated methods on a traitor once, exposing the two elder princes a display of elaborate ways to inflict pain. Loki had not particularly cared for it. Býleistr, on the other hand… Loki had aided Fárbauti so that his brother would not have the opportunity offered to him instead. Loki had not been sure if he could take the sight of his younger brother torture another being.

"Start talking," Loki said grimly.

The elf growled in defiance.

"I can ruin your body or your mind. Your choice," Loki hissed, gouging a finger into the elf's chest. The elf gave a sharp gasp of pain. "Who are you?" Loki asked evenly, his face calm. "I'd wager you didn't know all who kept this camp. Who did you come for? Thor? The queen?"

Loki heard Thor's footsteps and turned around in time to be clapped on the shoulder.

"Allow me, Prince," Thor laughed.

Loki wrenched his arm away as Thor raised his hammer. It glowed with electricity. "You've come a long way to die."

A bolt of lightning sliced through the air between the head of the hammer and the elf's throat. Loki took a hurried step back, startled by the sound. The elf thrashed against its bindings. Loki quickly collected himself and stole a glance at the elf.

Silvery lightning flowers blossomed across its cheek. They traveled down to its hands and spread across its neck. They were the strangest scarrings Loki had ever seen. The markings branched off jaggedly over its skin, not unlike split ice.

Loki's eyes widened when he felt Frigga's presence strengthen; he had not expected her to wake so soon. Not to mention that he would have never thought she could run at them.


	21. Chapter 21

"Thor! Thor, stop!" Frigga called, running to them with more composure than either of the princes would have expected. Thor withdrew instantly. "My son."

Thor locked his jaw and slowly turned to face her.

"We don't need to do this. He can face Asgardian justice." Thor started to interject. He held his arms out in case she needed support. Frigga's face went cold. "Of which you no longer have the privilege to enact."

Thor's flushed, color making its way all the way to his ears and neck. He scowled.

"What, then, shall we do with the elf?" Thor seethed.

"Your father's raven already went to Asgard with the news. When our warriors arrive, they will take care of the matter." Frigga said with queenly authority.

This half-resolution was unsatisfactory to Loki. After a moment of deliberation, he decided not to challenge the queen's hand in her own realm. Not to mention that few knew of the his presence; it was probably that Frigga had been their target, not the strange jötun mage.

"Are you certain that we can leave him like this?" Thor pressed. If Loki had felt just as incredulous, it would not have been so obvious. Frigga ignored Thor and stalked away from the two of them.

The sun had begun to spread on the ground and Thor now saw how the fire had savaged it. The air was astringent and a circle of the field reduced to a sheet of ash. Loki had burned away all the life of the flowers.

Thor found the berth of death unsettling. The patch of black looked wrong in a way he could not have explained. Thor dropped his shoulders and then marched off to pack up the horses. The animals kicked their hooves in their nervousness. Thor did not blame them.

* * *

They rode another day and stopped for their second night a ways from the lake. Frigga insisted that they camp in the woods to distance themselves from the alluring water. The coniferous trees were thick and green under the sky.

Loki lit a small fire while Thor set up camp. Frigga came over to him after a few minutes.

"I am in your debt, Prince Loki." She said.

Loki was quiet for a moment.

"I am glad you are well, queen Frigga." The fire popped audibly.

"I noticed that you were wincing all throughout the ride today, Prince Loki. I know that I have already offered my help to you. If you permit me to heal the rest of your wounds, you can consider it my thanks, or some of my debt if you will." She said with a dignified tone.

Loki held her gaze. The healing his body needed was nowhere near comparable to what he had done for her. It was muscle and blood and bone that needed mending for him, not magical damage.

"Your thanks," He echoed, quirking an eyebrow. How convenient, how simple it would be to just let her heal him and be done with it. Otherwise, he would surely end up waiting until after he returned to the palace.

Loki was not looking forward to another iteration of trying to alter his bones.

"Prince Loki, you have given me my life. For this, I am grateful."

"I will accept your services as recompense." Loki conceded. He laughed in spite of himself, laughed because of the strange position he found himself in. Damn this realm.

"To your tent, then?" Frigga asked, gesturing across the flame. Loki nodded, having little faith in his voice. He set a containment spell on the fire and detached from the magic he had been feeding it, a precaution in the event that his pain leached into his spell.

Frigga climbed into the tent and illuminated it with a spell. The tent was sized for at least four warriors and their equipment.

Frigga laid a wool bed roll across the center of the tent. She beckoned Loki who had taken to watching her from the door.

He forced himself to react immediately as not to appear hesitant or worried; he wanted to give no indication of weakness. He pressed his back to the padding and removed his tunic. The bruise on his front had been reduced to a few slate blue coin-sized spots.

Frigga sat crossed legged next to him and took off her riding gloves. Loki did not breath as her fingers touched his chest, tapping like raindrops. She did this across his ribcage and then laid a hand over his heart. Her methods were not like Jötunar healer's and he suspected that she was doing more than healing with her motions. What other chance would she have to understand a jötun's anatomy?

He watched her avidly even though she was probably only determining the damage for herself. He figured that it was irrational to worry, but try as he might, his paranoia would not go.

The energy laced in his veins could stave of either of his traveling companions. They did not threaten him.

Frigga's fingers stopped on his ribs and applied the gentlest of pressures. Loki steeled his face, nearly wincing.

"There are free pieces of bone in your chest and two of your ribs have been attached to the wrong bone." She said sullenly. Loki sighed; Frigga's hand rose and fell with is breath. It was the same temperature as his, different from the cool skin of his brothers. The idea of an Æsir touching him felt dirty and restless. A shiver shimmied down his shoulders and spine.

Frigga recoiled reflexively as a raw surge of heat passed in Loki's veins.

Loki sat up abruptly, panic on his features.

"I'm sorry, I—" he said hurriedly. Frigga hushed him.

"I'm alright." She said, showing her the unmarred peach of her palm. She replaced it on him and he could feel her shaking now. He refocused on keeping his temperature moderate.

Frigga pressed her fingers into the depression of his chest as if she were going to mold it. Loki stifled a sound. She gave him a sympathetic smile and relaxed her muscles, concentrating on her arcane art.

She targeted a ragged bone shard and guided it up through his skin. Loki clenched his jaw and tried to keep any moisture in his eyes from betraying weakness. The surface of his skin parted around the chip which came out with a dark dribble of blood. Frigga laid it on a cloth and dried it. It was about the size of a fork's head.

Loki laid the back of his hand over his eyes as Frigga knelt back to him. She took out another four chunks before having him turn over and proceeding to remove another sixteen. Frigga mended the slits each piece left and sat back down on her heels. Loki glanced up at her. Her brow creased.

"We need to re-break a couple of your ribs to set them properly." She said. Her lips were turned down at their corners. "I can do I for you, but I think it would be best if someone held you down. I'm sorry, I'm not sure it would be safe if you moved in the process."

Loki narrowed his eyes. She was fearful that he might strike her, then. To be fair, he had nearly burned her. Her implication was the worst bit of it all.

There was no way in all of the nine realms that Prince Loki of Jötunheimr was going to let that arrogant piece of Æsir filth lay a hand on him.

"Must we include him?" Loki said stoically. "We can use magic instead."

"You may break you magical bindings without meaning to. I know you do not mean me harm, Prince Loki." Frigga smiled a I'm-trying-to-help-you smile that seemed all too saccharin to Loki. "Let us take this precaution."

Loki bit back a smirk.

"You've done a lot for me, queen Frigga. For that, I thank you." He did not want to sound as if he was dismissing a servant for after requiring their services.

How could she even consider having Thor hold him down?

"The longer you wait to remake them, the worse it will be. You don't-" Frigga's voice was unwarrantably motherly and even _chiding_.

"Why do you force this?" Loki hissed at first, but then changed to a loquacious way of speaking. "The dinner in the palace and now _this._ I am not of your line, queen. We are beyond pleasantries."

The emotion on Frigga's face was dimmer now, guarded against him.

"There will never be another chance to have two princes, two who have not come of their thrones, in such a position to know one another. It is the two of you who will wage wars when you are kings."

Loki gave her the blankest expression he could manage.

"You don't have the formality of kings, not yet. Forgive me, Prince Loki, but it would only be damaging to yourself to deny this aid."

"I will keep my wretched bones." Loki said coldly. "Thank you for your healing." He drew out the last words, making it blatant that he wanted her out.

Frigga rose to her feet and watched him for a second, not with caution, he knew. Disappointment, perhaps? It did not matter.

"Will you take first watch?" She ventured.

He nodded slowly, hoping that she would go without further question. Frigga ducked out and retired to her tent. Loki wondered if she would actually sleep.

Loki walked out into the night, the crisp scent of pine and emerald needles suggesting nothing of the magical waters nearby. He scraped a handful of pine needles into his hand. They were similar to the trees in the more moderate regions of Jötunheimr. Their odor was stronger in this realm; Loki did not find it unpleasant.

Loki's moment of wistfulness was whisked away at the sight of Thor.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and waiting! :) Enjoy and please let me know what you think.

The Æsir prince had not gone to sleep, but instead made himself at home by Loki's fire.

_Perfect._ Loki thought sourly. He had not slept in two days and now he would have to deal with Thor's exhausting presence. Loki cleared his throat.

"I'm taking the first watch." Loki said from a comfortable distance. The fire brightened and crackled uneasily, responding to Loki's displeasure. Thor lifted his head. "You can go."

Thor glanced up at Loki's Æsir skin with the hint of a challenge. Loki's tired eyes narrowed.

Thor was intending to stay put.

"I would join you." Thor offered. A tongue of fire leaped skyward, accompanied by a puff of smoke.

"It is unwise to be in my company, _Prince_ Thor of Asgard." Loki said. He walked to the opposite side of the fire and sat down. Loki did not speak, only played with the flames idly.

Loki expected Thor to leave, boring of the silence eventually. Instead, he broke it.

"Thank you for defending us last night, Prince Loki." Loki was quick to take the surprise off his face, not that it mattered behind the fire.

"Mmmm." Loki dismissed. He plucked his dagger from his boot and twisted its hilt between his fingers. "It was nothing."

"No, it was not. And you kept Frigga from Valhalla." Thor told him. Loki made another noise as if it were trivial. "Are you determined to deny my gratitude?"

_Maybe I wouldn't be if it were_ sincere.

Loki fed the fire with energy so that it blocked out Thor's face. But _of course_ Thor would not take this as a sign that he was unwelcome, _no-_ Thor walked around the fire and stopped a few feet from him. Loki kept his face blank, allowing his frustrations to pour into a roaring fire.

_If it were anyone else but this mongrel,_ He told himself. _I would appear of impeccable discipline._

Thor was watching the dagger in Loki's grip, which had turned a vicious shade of red. He took a step away and Loki had a fleeting hope that he might actually go. Thor planted himself down an arm's length from Loki, his cape rumpling on the ground. Loki put a hand on the side of his head and curled his fingers into his shadowy hair. He wedged the dagger into the ground with ease.

"I apologize for naming you as something weak." Thor said with a rascal's smile. "It's a pity that we'll not test our strength in battle."

_He must think to praise me. Perhaps it is his sideways attempt to say he found me a useful asset to his prowess._

Loki stole a glance at Thor; it was a mistake, one quickly corrected by crossing his arms over his knees and leaning forward to gaze into the flame.

"Are you still wounded?" Thor asked. Was he ever going to be silent? Loki let his eyes gloss over as he gazed into the fire. "I never thought to find you so quiet." Thor chuckled.

"Did you need something, Thunderer?" Loki asked with undisguised venom. Thor's lips parted, but Loki left him no time to speak. "Do you have anything to say, _anything_ to offer but your simpering condolences?"

_Leave._ He thought. _Leave me alone to the night and the fire_.

"I... No. I sought nothing, Prince Loki. I owed you my thanks."

"That is all very well," Loki retorted. "You may go." He blinked sleep from his eyes and spurred the fire.

"I don't think I can rest after last night." Thor admitted. "Besides, do the Jötunar not sleep?"

If the Æsir prince was trying to prove something, Loki was lost on what might be.

"The a different night would suit you better." Thor continued. "Unless you would share the duty with me."

Was Thor trying to show him some sort of kindness? Frigga must have prompted him to do so, knowing that a magic user needed rest. This must have been why Thor was staying so stubbornly- it could not be of his own accord. He could not give the watch to Thor for the whole night, but he supposed that Thor should take some of it.

"You will wake me up when the moon is at its highest so that I may take the latter part of the night." Loki asserted. "Do you swear it?"

"I swear." Thor answered, hiding a smile with his forearm. To him, it was as close as he would find to Loki admitting that he possessed some vulnerability.

Loki's eyes flitted between Thor's and the flames. He pocketed his dagger and stood. Loki stabilized the fire and left Thor alone with it.

The tent smelled like his blood. He eased himself onto the bed roll and laid his head on his forearms. It was awkward, but his body was so fatigued that he could have found sleep on stone. His hair fell halfway across his face, blocking the distant glow of the fire. Using as little time and energy as possible, he spelled the tent and searched the surrounding area for any source of magic. The lake emitted energy, though it was fainter than he had been led to believe.

* * *

Loki dreamt water with an inescapable chill. He was utterly submerged in it, hair blooming around him. The water was not murky, yet not exactly clear, either- it looked like it was speckled with fine, white dust.

Feeling no need to fear for breath, Loki propelled himself deeper, reaching one hand down. When something solid seemed to be close, he slowed. He was down to what could have been the bottom of an ocean.

He stilled in the water and tried to make out what it was that lay below him. His skin prickled, not from the cold but a new-found suspicion that something was lurking down there, maybe waiting for him.

What could he do against an assailant in the frigid water?

He inhaled water without meaning to and then tried to force air to come to him with magic. Loki gasped for the oxygen that would not come and then kicked at the water.

He was not moving in any direction; nothing he could see or touch suspended him.

Something stirred in the depths and a cloud of dust dissipated in the water.

He closed his eyes tightly and summoned fire as if his life depended on it.

 


	23. Chapter 23

Fire and water coiled independently around him like serpents, slithering and lifelike in opposition. They did not mix or steam at the edges, but wove lines of orange and blue around him. There was neither warmth nor the former cold—instead, a detached recognition of his surroundings that brought no sensations. The elemental mass enveloped him and for a moment, there was only Loki's energy in the water.

A magical presence latched on to his, radiating fire as his did. He drew in the fire out of surprise, trying to secure his magic so that it would not be toiled with.

He was powerless when a jötun hand split his guard of fire, parting it as if it were clay. A single eye appeared at the gap, every bit as brilliant and orange as his.

* * *

"Prince," Loki heard Thor say distantly. "Moon's high."

Loki's heart thumped so rapidly that the beats were indistinguishable. It did not help that everything was black when opened his eyes. He searched for firelight and magic franticly.

"Prince Loki?" Thor sounded uneasy.

"I heard you." Loki managed. He sat up and picked strands of hair off of his face. They were sticky with sweat and clung disgustingly to his skin. He took deep breath to reset his breathing, and then dragged a cloth over the clammy skin of his face. He pulled his fingers through his hair and found it damp as well.

_Only dreams._ He thought, drying his brow. He staggered to his feet, then out of the tent.

Thor was still standing by the fire.

"You may go." Loki said with a wave of his hand. He trudged across the site on shaky legs to his fire.

"I shall in a moment." Thor replied, eying the shade under Loki's eyes. The giant looked sickly, at least in the Æsir skin.

Loki changed his skin mid-step to that of a jötun's. Thor's hand twitched to Mjolnir's place on his belt. The skin of a giant was a weapon in and of itself, and far more threatening to Thor, Loki hoped. Even with the clothes Frigga had given him.

Loki wanted Thor to remember that he was not of this realm, that his fire was not one for Thor to linger by and that Loki was still Loki, regardless of his presentation. The concept of a jötun and an ǫ́ss sharing words by the fire was foreign to both races; such beings were separate for a reason.

Thor's eyes scrabbled over the lines on Loki's face, but made no comment nor motion to leave.  
Thor followed the flicker of the fire and extended his hands. Æsir were so particular about staying warm— Loki thought it strange that they had such trouble with it in this desert of a realm. Thor looked too comfortable by the fire,  _Loki's_  fire, for his liking.

Thor must expect that he would not hurt him, possibly think he could find an ally in him. One battle did not make it so.  _Fool._ He had aided guides and tended to a wound out of necessity. Frigga's kindness, her  _diplomacy_ , was admirable, yet demanded by her position. A queen and her line must be preserved for stability.

They were companions because the situation demanded it. Nothing more. He would not let himself fall to another conclusion. This  _golden_ princeling, this would-be king, was someone Loki needed to tolerate. Nothing about him was worth much attention, other the throne he would recline on and his hand in battle.

Thor had vowed, bent his head to Loki. Thanked him.

Loki could never forgive his hand in Jötunheimr. And he suspected that the debt Thor owed his family would stack rather than return to them in any veritable manner.

Loki staunched the fire motionlessly and it became little more than coals. He walked over them and they flared under the soles of his boots. Thor's scowl was lost to him as he took his former seat on the pine needles.

Sweat trickled down Loki's neck and a fresh drop beaded from his hairline, leaving a cold trail down his forehead. Fortunately, his heartbeat lowered to a stuttering pulse nestled in his throat. He checked his dagger's perch out of habit; it leaned against his skin. He tapped his fingers on the coals, grinning like a wolf as they shot through with greenish light.

"Are you-?" Thor started with the implication of concern. Loki looked at him with fiery irises and dipped his chin.

"You are unwise, Thor Odinsson." He purred, lurching forward and yanking his dagger from his boot. Thor's stance stooped defensively; Loki was pleased to see him drop his pretense and clench the handle of Mjölnir.

Loki leveled the dagger at Thor, a wicked smile on his lips. Thor tensed, but made no motions that would warrant further aggression. Loki licked his lips and flicked the tip of the dagger toward the tents. "Be seeing you."

In truth, he expected this to break Thor's temper, for the ossr to march up to him and growl. Loki had thought pointing a dagger that had found purchase in his chest would be enough. Loki had a knack for jabbing finding the right irritants, pulling the right string. There was no way that Thor, goaded like this would just step away— he was too proud, if not too stubborn.

"You do not seem like yourself," Thor muttered. The sheen on Loki's skin looked ill and tortured.

Loki's eyes broadened briefly. He was, in every sense, himself; the problem was that Thor was the inconsiderate, dense Æsir prince.

_I am not behaving, as a prince must._  Loki bit his tongue _. What is it with him that makes me act like this?_  He wondered if Thor had been testing him every bit as much as he just had. Perhaps that was allotting him too much intellect. Loki questioned if he was just tired and therefore short tempered, but he could not waver now… Or maybe he could and do just what Thor could not.

_You don't have the formality of kings, not yet._ Frigga had said. How different this would go in a throne room, he mused. Had she told Thor this piece too? The connection between them could be severed by a knife or a word of spite. Now, what would best benefit Loki, king to-be?

Loki laid his dagger on the ground beside him and placed his hands on his kneecaps. Thor kept his muscles taut, knowing that Loki could still strike him with magic by his bond.

"My apologies," Loki said smoothly, head inclined. "I wish to take watch alone. Æsir sleep, do they not?" He added, twisting Thor's former words in a teasing tone. Thor clawed his fingers into his palm— _ha,_ a hint of his rage,—and nodded. Loki had half-expected Thor to anger with this.

Thor turned and left. Loki watched him all the while, noticing the way he strode as if a piece his pride stuck to his feet.

Loki did not realize that Thor was missing his cape until poked at the fire and saw its red to the side. He touched it without thinking and slid it onto his lap. The fabric, like the Æsir blankets, was cloyingly soft; not quite his expectation for a cloth worn to battle. It betrayed no hints of magic to Loki's hand. It was a shame; such a layer could hold magic that meant one's life or death in battle. He supposed that he could enchant it, add something small that would go unnoticed. Thor's armor was substantial on his back. Loki smoothed it, pondering the best way to tamper with it.

Thor lacked magical and elemental defense, two of Loki's specialties. The cape could be made water or fireproof with a bit of Loki's blood, so then he would always be able to identify the enchantment. The red fabric would look just the same to both of them. It would not take much more energy to make it repel fire and smoke from its wearer.

Using the clean edge of his dagger, he sliced the length of his forearm. His blood took its time, rivulets beginning to spatter thickly on the red on the green pine needles. He cauterized the gash before it coagulated, leaving it for later.

" _Skipta_." He breathed. Change.

The cape shimmered with a pearlescent glow and became hot to the touch. Loki's blood sizzled on the ground as he wove the spell into the threads, careful to spread it thinly so that it would be difficult to detect. It spread like ink in cold water, gradually reaching for edges and corners. The matte scarlet returned in full and Loki put it back where Thor had left it.

Loki laid on the coals and spread his arms out. He swept the area for a trace of magic. Nothing caught his attention besides the lake. The magic of it felt dormant, unmoving, except for an occasional pulse of energy. There was warmth to it, a slight one that made him feel like he was in a patch of morning sun.

He withdrew from it and checked his traveling companions—Frigga had not concealed the signature of her own magic.

Something else, certainly not Thor, coursed with power in the tent. It took Loki longer than he would have liked to recognize it as Mjölnir. Against his better judgment, he pricked it with magic, a mild bit of cold.

A vicious current shocked the hand he would conduct physical magic with and he yelped. Loki pulled it to his chest and stared.

Lines of silver had risen on his fingers and traced the bones on the back of his hand. They looked like shiny vines with spiked leaves. They were similar to the ones that had appeared the prisoner only the day before, crawling across its face when Thor struck with lightning.

Loki now felt nauseous looking at his hand. Silver, though fainter than the mark's, was the color of a scar on a Jötunar. Loki had removed scars from worse. He marveled at the mark for a moment and then ran a finger down it, flattening the ridge. With a second run, the intruding pigment vanished.

He flexed his hand and stuck it into the coals. Sticking his hand into the remnants of fire left none of the hurts of the storm.

Loki spent the rest of the night with the warm bed of coals and the moonlight. Though when the sunlight painted the sky, it was a welcome replacement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: "skipta" means to change according to etymonline and ǫ́ss denotes a male Æsir. Loki's hand is based on "lightning flowers." Thanks to all for reading and reviewing!


	24. Chapter 24

The day's ride was tolerable, not long enough to aggravate Loki's injuries. They traveled a dim section of forest with mottled sunlight dappling the ground. The green of the trees became increasingly luminous as they continued, coupled darker, almost ashen, bark. At one point, Loki paused to rub his fingers against a branch and found that it quivered ever so slightly. All bird songs faded away before midday. All that remained was the occasional snap of a twig under his horse's hooves.

Frigga nudged her horse, goading it to catch Loki's.

"Can you sense it?" she asked. Loki nodded, having already recognized the energy during the night.

"Does it stay dormant?" Frigga looked confused at this. Loki cleared his throat and added, "During the moonrise."

Had she not noticed a consciousness in the waters?

"It does not change." she replied with a note of curiosity. She looked to him, her brow furrowed now.

"I wondered if there would be a shift with the rise of the moon." he said.

Thor, who had been watching them from a generous distance, rode up between them. Loki turned away innocently, hiding a grin at his remembrance of the cape's embellishment. Thor had picked it up hastily in the morning, but not before anxiously glancing about for Loki, who had had it an arm's length away for hours.

Even if the magic were discovered, none would fault him for protective spells. Perhaps he could go so far as saying Thor agreed to it drunkenly. Loki knew it was petty, though it was oddly satisfying to have tampered with the cape.

When Frigg and Loki held their silence, Thor snorted and his horse followed in suit.

"Do not forget to distance yourself from the water." Frigga said again.

"I know, mother." Thor said stiffly.

Not wanting to be in such proximity to the ǫ́ss, Loki dug his heel into his steed and took the final span of forest alone.

The temperature dropped as he continued, and the air thickened to a cold fog that left a sheen of water on his skin. Thor and Frigga's voices were no longer audible, but something foreign thrummed in their place.

It was a soft sound, like a murmur or voice for reading children's tales. When he tried to focus on it, to pin it down somehow, it dimmed in the same way that stars do when one tries to stare at just one.

Loki was absorbed in following the noise that he barely held his saddle when his steed stepped into a shallow stream and whinnied at the chill. The sound roused him suddenly and he inhaled sharply. He drew back on the reins and looked up into the canopy. The dense leaves blotted out just short all light and were eerily still.

Loki paused until he heard the hooves of his companion's horses, and then followed the stream. The natural sounds of the forest had long since faded, and now Loki sensed a faint pulse of magic that dissipated in the wood. The fog was cold enough now to leave ice crystals in his hair.

He mistook his first glimpse of Lake Kalda for a shimmering piece of frost in his eyelashes. The lake was smooth on the top, smooth as the surface of water in a glass goblet, yet it glittered brilliantly with light from an imperceptible source. Its waters were a familiar blue, a shade paler than his grandsire's skin. No trees rooted at its shore, but several trunks glided towards the center of it and shaded acres of soft ground along it. The peaceful gleam of the lake seemed to whisper to him wordlessly, hinting at the security of its company and promising that there were exciting things just below its surface.

Loki dismounted his horse and went to its edge as if he were an attendant at to a sick relation. He set down a few paces away from it and dipped a fingertip into the stream he had followed.

He gasped in what he was could not immediately be certain was not pain. By the nine, it was cold, colder than anything Loki had known on Jötunheimr, colder than the Vimur river. He gaped in shock, lost in the sensation as he gazed blankly at his hand.

Frigga shouted in the distance, called to him by name, but the sound failed to make an impression. Loki was no longer breathing, the captivated by the water joining the lake.

The next thing he knew was Frigga's hands gripping his shoulders, wrenching his hand to his side. She shook him roughly, shaking with anger at herself. Loki's fiery eyes blinked slowly and he turned them to his fingertip, finally registering concern on his face. A bead of water dripped from it onto the earth. He brought his hand up to look at, turned it once and raised an eyebrow.

"It's unmarked." he muttered, slightly perturbed. "How—"

"Come, let's set up camp." Frigga said firmly. Loki exhaled and glanced at the lake. "Not here.  _Stand up._ "

Loki did so slowly. Frigga clenched his forearm to prevent any second thoughts. Thor watched with evident concern, though made no move to help. They walked away from the lake, Loki peering over his shoulder every few steps.

"What is it?" he asked, his own ruminations unfruitful.

"A lake." Thor retorted.

"No, no. Maybe there is a lake, but there's something willing it this way." Loki paused. "I think. Or someone made it."

"It precedes us all." Frigga said.

"Æsir, maybe. Not all."

Loki took his tent from the horse and placed it on the soft expanse of earth. He could barely make out the lake through the fog. Nightfall was settling in. Over the course of an hour, the moonlight glided into the center of the lake. The magic around the lake beat on the edge of Loki's conscience like waves, each more powerful than the last. It came with no threat or intention- was simply there— building.

When he mentioned to Frigga about this, she too was confused, though recognized only that some magical pressure was exerted in the area.

Loki could not help but want to touch it again and learn why it resonated with him on a higher level than Frigga. So many times she had cautioned him from it, the enchantment it cast on its banks. Perhaps it was devoid of wildlife because all of them had taken into it. If any fish lived in the water, Loki did not sense them; everything past the surface was hidden from him, or maybe there was nothing to speak of.

Frigga settled in her tent to rest for a time. Loki slipped into his, closed his eyes and picked at the lake's magic. There was nothing, nothing, nothing to latch on to.

The lake had engaged him somehow, and Loki was far more convinced that there was so much something beneath to the point that it was toying with him. It was there but it did not care to know him, like an elder bemused by a child who thinks they have something to teach them.

Loki went to his horse and downed a canteen of water. He checked for Frigga, who's breathing was low in her tent. Thor's was empty, so Loki cast out his magic to check for the magic signature of Mjolnir.

Mjolnir had moved towards the lake, but he could not be sure of how far. Loki broke into a sprint in its direction and lanced the fog with warmth. The ice crystals melted and fell together to the ground.

Loki could see Thor now; a mere step from Lake Kalda, shoulders slumped at his sides. The fool!

"THOR!" Loki screamed.

Thor was fifteen paces away from him, ten, but only one from the water. Thor stopped for an instant, tilted his head down, and extended a foot over the water and tumbled into the water with horrid splash.

Suddenly the tide of magic was crashing over in Loki's mind, unmitigated waves of energy.

_Come._ It told him.

Loki dove in before the ripples from Thor's entrance had seen their worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went to reread some of my story today and got in my writing groove while being sick at home. Are there still people out there who would like to read this? I suspect that many of you have lost interest over time, but I would really appreciate if you let me know if that's not the case for you. Someone follows or favorites this story on an almost weekly basis, despite its massive delay in updates.
> 
> Happy Age of Ultron all! (Even if you share my middle of the road opinion of it...)


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Defintions:  
> eldjötnar - "fire-jötnar"  
> sjórisar - "sea-risar," also a form of jötnar

Loki was cold, colder than he had ever been in his entire life. The strength in his limbs leached into the lake. He clenched his eyes closed and kicked once towards the shore with the last wisp of energy he had left. If it was there, he could not feel it. He locked his jaw against the water and tried to force his body to the peak of its temperature range, providing only an instant of respite. A second later, he was sinking and losing hope of another breath of air.

Loki’s chest seized and convulsed in a panic he had not known he was capable of. He curled inward and thought fleetingly of the other prince in the depths. Thor would have frozen to death by now, lost in the odd stillness of the frigid lake. Thor’s body would rest on the bottom forever.

And so would his.

Loki choked on a sobbing sound and water flooded his mouth. His lungs demanded him to inhale and he did, or at least he thought he had, but it felt nothing like water. He opened his eyes instinctively and jerked his head up.

The water was dark teal from beneath with the faintest hint of moonlight at the surface. Down, it only darkened. The end of Thor’s cape was fading into the depths. Loki took a breath of something and dove towards it. His blue fingers clenched around the edge of it as if it could raise him up.

 _I am through._ Loki thought in stunned silence. _I am lost. I am fire that will freeze to death._

As if he had hit ground, Loki stopped sinking. He kicked franticly, swimming towards the moonlight, a fistful of red cloth in one hand and every beat of his heart filling his blood with furious heat. The cape did not work against him in the water so he held it, figuring it would be the last of Thor he or anyone else ever saw.

A consciousness, lucid and clear, prodded Loki’s mind curiously. It was familiar in a way he could not place and he threw his own barriers against by reflex. He felt something curl around him, hot and lifelike. It appeared in the water in lithe, bright blue strands. Loki flinched away from them, harboring much more fear than awe for this strange being. He stilled, hoping that it might lose interest.

 _Let me go!_ He said desperately, opening his thoughts. The being tapped into them immediately, its mind churning like a wild beasts’. It felt massive and it pulsed with old power.

 _Are you a giant?_ It asked.

 _Yes, albeit a small one._ Loki answered, strained.

_You are eldjötnar._

_Yes,_ Loki answered, for he could see no reason to lie. _And you?_

_Sjórisar once, a long time ago. I am bound to the water, I guard the treasure from the Æsir._

_They do not seek a treasure._ Loki assured it.

 _They would! They all have. But_ I _kept it safe._ It answered, and Loki could not tell if it was excited or angry. _It is for jötnar. Are you king?  
_

_I will be._

_Hide it from them._ It insisted.

 _Let me and the Æsir to shore._ Loki replied firmly. _And I might._

 _Will you come back?_ It asked hopefully.

 _Perhaps,_ Loki paused. _Will you tell me how you came to be?_

_Perhaps._

* * *

 

Loki’s hand broke the surface directly under the moon. Snow was falling. He swiveled in the water, nowhere near the shoreline that the princes had plunged over. In the distance, he saw Frigga’s diaphanous robes catch the light. She conjured a warm plume of golden light and called out his name.

Loki swam towards her with strange ease, uncertain if his body had adjusted to the water or if it was truly milder. His skin had turned an unhealthy slate blue.

Thor’s body surfaced on its back a stroke away from Loki and Loki felt like he was going to be sick. Thor’s face was impossibly pale and his hair was fanned out in the water. Loki collided with Thor, accidentally reaching a hand over Thor’s arm as he swam. Loki pulled back to keep from dragging Thor down, but Thor hardly dipped in the water with the pressure. Loki curled his fingers around Thor’s wrist and continued swimming, Thor trailing weightlessly behind him.

Loki climbed onto the ground as a shivering, dripping mess. A newfound headache threatened to drown out his thoughts. He fell to his knees after nine steps and sat there, hand to his head, as Frigga pulled Thor from the water. She shook him by the shoulders and his head fell to the side, eyes closed. Loki cast warmth into his clothes.

“Is he breathing?” Loki coughed, his body racked with residual cold.

“Only just.” Frigga said slowly. Her eyes were shadowed as she looked over him. She took a fistful of his cape in her hand and squeezed the water out of it. Her voice fell to a whisper. “He’s so cold.”

“Something is controlling that lake. Did you know anything of this?” Loki asked warily. Frigga took a shaky breath.

“There are always tales.” She said, her voice having about as much color as Thor’s face.

“Many are based on truth. Dear queen, enlighten me—“ Loki continued hoarsely, stopping when Frigga took her hand away from Thor.

”Traveling sorcerers fought and killed each other. It has been _thousands_ of years since.”

“Time makes most more, not less, powerful, dear queen.”

Frigga straightened her back, returing to a royal demeanor. “Someone is holding Thor in this state and I cannot break their grip.”

Loki averted his eyes and tried, to no avail, to find the thoughts of the formless jötunn. He pushed himself to his feet and walked warily Thor. He loomed over the Æsir for a moment. He placed his fingertips on Thor’s forehead for a moment. There were sparks of life, but they glowed faintly. Thor’s skin was dry and cold, unnatural for a being of his strength.

Loki trudged back to the water and dipped his hand in. It was mild, like tap water even. Frigga reached for him and Loki raised a hand to still her.

“Leave me.” He said, gaining confidence as he spoke. Frigga looked uncertain. Loki eased himself into the lake, muttering a spell for water breathing and slipping into the depths.

The cold did not assault him as it did before, nearly matching his own temperature. The water was thoroughly black, despite the moonlight, as if every ray was lost on the surface.

 _I’m here._ Loki projected into nothingness. A few azure lines lit up around him like veins. _Release the Æsir you hold. He is none of your concern._

 _All Æsir seek the treasure I left on their realm._ A current swirled around Loki.

 _I would not presume to let him take anything._ Loki said. _I doubt he could manage to._

 _Will the eldjötnar hide it? Take it from this realm?_ It asked sharply.

_I am the only one. What treasure do you hold in here?_

It did not answer, but instead pulled him down. A tendril of light touched his face and the water became miraculously clear, crystal to the opposite bank. There were no shallower sections to the lake—it was as if it had been carved out of the ground. To the sky, the moon glistened perfectly on the water, almost as if it was placed on the surface. Then he looked down.

The bottom was ridden with clothed skeletons, each one frozen in a crawl toward the center of the lake. There were hundreds of them, most of them close to the edges, but a few nearly halfway to the middle. Their armor looked ancient and was completely rusted. None of the clothing wafted in the water, for it was still. A shiver ran up Loki’s spine and he tried to swim up.

 _No jötnar._ It assured him. _All thieves of the other realms._

_You beckoned us into the lake, have you not done the same to them?_

_Thieves!_ It repeated in a low hiss. Loki nearly shook his head, but quickly thought better of it. The being pulled him to the middle of the lake, past too many dead to count.

The very center was a circle of gray sand. Loki put his feet on the bottom and carefully made his way to it. There was a stick, no bigger than a cedar sapling, poking out of it.

 _A twig?_ Loki asked incredulously. This being must have gone insane with time.

_Look closer._

He picked it up and turned it in his hand. The stick seemed thicker now, almost a branch. He swung it experimentally. A strong current followed its path, disturbing some of the skeletons in the distance. Loki squinted at the stick and traced the curve of it, eyeing each knot on the wood. Gradually, it came in to focus: a dark staff, long and thin. The hilt had a single, colorless jewel inlaid in it and a faint inscription that Loki could not yet make out. It thrummed with power, a dizzying amount of wild force.

 _Lævateinn._ The being whispered. _I wielded, fought it out of Bör’s kingdom. I had no ocean to protect it with. I made these waters, used far more magic than any jötunn survive—my body, at least. I was not any jötunn, not are you. Some of my spirit stays, waning with the moon that controlled my tides. Take Lævateinn to your realm, away from these thieves. Take it, protect it, he who would be king._

 _If you wish._ Loki said softly. He tucked the staff away, now little more than a twig. Something pushed against his chest and he gasped in pain.

 _You are broken. Æsir always break what they touch._ It said sourly. Warmth crept up Loki’s sides and along his spine, washing over him pleasantly. _There. You must go, before more Æsir find it._

 _They have not been seeking it for hundreds of years, if not more._ Loki started towards the bank. _What did they call you?_

_Rán. And you?_

_Loki._

Rán engaged the current to bring him to shore, sweeping him up to the surface. Frigga startled as he broke the surface.

_Release the Æsir. I have need of him. This one is not a thief._

Rán’s thoughts shifted doubtfully.

 _May your fire light your path._ She said and parted from his mind.

* * *

 

Loki heaved himself onto the shore and gazed across the lake. His body shook with exhaustion. Thor coughed behind him and Frigga pulled Thor into a hug. Frigga walked Thor back to his tent and sat down next to him. She wrapped him in blankets and gently brushed his hair with her fingers. It was not until the moon dipped behind the trees that Loki went back to his tent and slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the comments you all leave... And they definitely inspire me to continue this story. So, after three months, another chapter! In all seriousness though, I enjoy your enthusiasm. 
> 
> A little background for you on Rán and Lævateinn-  
> Rán, in Norse Mythology, is a sea goddess that does some degree of luring men into the sea or at least receiving them when they get to the bottom of it. It's not entirely clear in the Eddas. She has a net she uses to catch men. She loans it to Loki for awhile. To "go to Rán" is a kenning for drowning.
> 
> My understanding of Lævateinn, beyond its name meaning of "damage twig," is that it's a staff that is used by Loki. He might have taken it out of Hel.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brand new day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I was reading through comments and found some muse to work on another chapter. I love seeing comments and kudos pop up on this fic. Thank you to all who take a moment to pass along your thoughts. And now, our prince of... a very, very cold lake ??

Loki rose in the late afternoon. He felt around in the tent for Lævateinn and curled his fingers around it. Fortunately, it was the only stick in his tent, as it looked nothing like what he remembered. It was rough to the touch, not an inch of it polished. The inscription and jewel that he had seen when he first held it were gone—he could not have distinguished it from any other stick in the woods. Loki blinked and turned it over in his hands a couple of times, puzzled. Loki could still feel traces of magic that felt old, nearly on par with the Casket of Ancient Winters. He wracked his memory for story or legend with a branch, a twig, a walking stick, but could recall nothing.

It does not precede all jötunar. At least not sjórisar.

The name Rán had never crossed his purview, though the word sounded a similar to the jötunn word for thief. There had been other races of jötunar, vindþursa of the wind, bergrisar of earth. Eldjötnar, truly of fire, were gone along with them. Legend held that some of them merely joined the winds they held dear, or made mountains of themselves.

Loki had long adored these tales, delighting in the myth and observable truth alike. He believed, as he suspected most of his race did, that something had preceded them. He caught himself wondering if he would someday fade into legend, as stories do.

He poked at his ribcage and took a breath as deeply as he could. No bones shifted in his chest, nor did his body stop him with a jolt of pain. His skin looked clean, and as he moved, his muscles shifted in harmony.

Loki propped himself into a pushup position and let himself thump back to the ground. This winded him, but nothing more. He cracked a grin and opened his tent.

To their credit, Frigga and Thor had not disturbed him. Loki guessed that Frigga was trying to minimize Thor's suffering from the cold; he had almost certainly fallen ill. Asgardians were not meant to withstand such low temperatures. Loki was determined to say nothing beyond necessity about the lake and Rán. The Asgardians had no jurisdiction to make him speak.

He left Lævateinn in his tent, unsure if something as nondescript as a stick would draw suspicion. If he could get Lævateinn back to Jötunheimr without a single Asgardian seeing it, all would be well.

Loki meandered over to the Asgardian's tents, only to find them empty. He was relieved to see that two of the horses were gone along with them. Otherwise, Loki might have found himself back in Lake Kalda. Perhaps Frigga had taken Thor back to some village for medical care. He took Frigga as someone with the courtesy to leave a note, but just there wasn't one.

He walked to the shore of the lake. Nothing drew him to it beyond his own will. He stood next to it and closed his eyes, searching for a flicker of conscience from Rán or the Asgardians.

Loki recognized Rán, could tell that it was her who was nearby, but it was like reaching for the low tide line off of a cliff—she had ebbed away, shifting, now an undertow. Loki felt sorrow in his chest. He thought of the waters she kept, littered with the dead. How long had she been there and how long would she continue haunting because she could do nothing more? Now that she was not guarding Lævateinn, perhaps she would fade away. He wondered if she could be put back together, made jötunar once more. She would have been an incredible ally in any other form.

"Goodbye." He murmured.

I could dive back down. Loki thought. There might be more to the dead. His curiosity pulled at him, but if Thor or Frigga saw him, they would surely confront him about why he could come and go. Loki fetched a bottle of water from his saddlebag. He poured it out in the grass and refilled it with lake water.

Loki walked the perimeter of the lake, a mile at most. An array of royal trees reflected across the surface, images pristine with the lack of wind. If there had ever been something odd about the foliage or shoreline, the traces had been lost to time. Loki found comfort in the quiet and his own meandering steps.

When he looped back to camp, he saw Thor packing up camp. Loki grabbed Lævateinn from his tent, lest it be lost in transition. He slipped the branch into sleeve, and then into the saddlebag. Loki caught Thor looking at him, but then Thor avoided his eyes—good, it was that much easier to transfer Lævateinn. Thor looked, dare he even think it, defeated? At the very least, shaken.

"Where's Frigga?" Loki asked softly.

"She went for a walk." Thor said. The Asgardian stilled his hands and nudged the ashen remains of their earlier campfires with his boot. "Are you well? I—we did not know when you would wake."

"I'm fine." Loki replied. "How much do you remember?"

Thor shivered, shivered in broad daylight and Loki glimpsed fear in his eyes. Loki thought that this should bring him some relief, or a sense of power or something other than the sad unease it instilled. Thor exhaled and met Loki's gaze.

"I remember darkness, the taste of death. I know not how to explain it any other way." Thor shifted his feet, distracting from himself from the weight of his words. "You coming out of the lake. Cold greater than all of that in Asgard."

He thinks he almost died. Loki realized. He's not wrong. Drowning would a death without honor, and against Rán, one without a hope of resistance. Are you scared, Odinsson? Of me? Of the depths? Of all that is unknowable?

Loki's silence wore poorly on Thor. "How did you make it let us go?"

"I'm not sure." Loki said. Thor looked crestfallen. "I don't know, son of Odin. I can hardly think about why we came here in the first place. Just be glad that you have cheated death once more."

"I am sorry. I… I had it all backwards. I had it all wrong." Thor sighed. "I am truly sorry."

Loki looked on across the water.

"Enough." Loki bit out. He put a hand to his face and closed his eyes. So this is how fear bends you, Odinsson.

"You could have died."

"Enough." Loki said again, teeth clenched. "I can tolerate icy water."

Thor suppressed a smile, as for a moment he relief in the stubbornness of the giant. This he was accustomed to.

"I assume we're leaving when Frigga returns." Loki said, returning to his normal composure. Jötunheimr felt a daydream away, though he would be lying if he said he had not adjusted to this realm.

"Aye." Thor said. "I should like to track those who assailed us on the road once we return to Asgard."

A task I intend to leave to you. Loki thought, but said nothing.

The three set off within the hour, leaving the dormant lake and its holdings alone once more.


End file.
